


An Unconventional Marriage.

by Jack_Wilder



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Always female Sam Wilson, Brock is in the military, F/M, Rating may go up not sure as yet, Sam is a university student, contract marriage, mention of rape in chapter 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 20:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 55,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10446627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jack_Wilder/pseuds/Jack_Wilder
Summary: Sam needs money; Brock has money.Brock is lonely; Sam is single.





	1. Chance Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!!
> 
> This is a new piece of work that came to me when I overheard a stranger on his cellphone saying that he only married his wife for her money. I have no idea how the rest of the conversation went, but this is what happened when I heard his admission. 
> 
> In addition, I know nothing about the medical or military field, I googled some stuff, others is more than likely complete bullshit in order to make this fic come to life, so please bear with me. 
> 
> There is mention of rape in chapter 2, which is currently being written. It's only mentioned, there is nothing graphic.
> 
> I will add the necessary tags as this work progress.
> 
> I hope that you all like it! 
> 
> If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

The smell of bleach burned her nose as Sam stared miserably at the I.V. in her arm pumping fluids into her deprived and neglected body. It had been an extremely trying two weeks, dealing with classes, her  _secret off-campus_  part-time job, trying to figure out how she was going to pay her rent, buy food and pay the monthly instalment of her mother's hospital bill that she was four months behind in paying. Not to mention one of her professors had it out for her and gave her a ‘C-‘ on an assignment that she busted her ass on and knew that she deserved an ‘A’ for, so now she had to find a way to make up for that grade in order to keep her scholarship.

She had run herself ragged and it all came to a head when she collapsed at work from exhaustion, slight (completely accidental) starvation and dehydration and low blood pressure, her boss had rushed her to the emergency room, where he was more panicked than she was. She finally got him to go home to his pregnant wife by telling a small fib that one of her university friends were on their way to her, which in reality no one was coming for her.

She was so lost in thought that she had no idea she had company in the room until the scolding of a young doctor breached her thoughts.

"You could be kicked out of the military for starting fights!"

Sam looked over and saw a young doctor, slim with short brown fluffy hair, reprimanding a man who looked to be at least a few inches shy of 6'. The man had jet black hair, short on the sides and longish on top that he was able to comb it back and style it, green eyes and what was an impressive bruise on his cheek. Sam's eyes wondered down his muscular chest, to his no doubt toned washboard abs, to where his waist tapered off, until her eyes caught his busted knuckles. 

"Listen," the man said and Sam found that she liked the sound of his voice, "I don't start shit but I do finish it. And the law states that once I'm hit I am well within my rights to defend myself."

"You allowed him to hit you so that you could beat his ass." The intern shot back.

The man grinned rakishly, "whatever Petey."

The doctor blushed at the name, "it’s _Dr. Parker._ "

"And you're still my little brother so it's Peter, Petey or Pumpkin Eater."

"Just get on the damn bed and let me clean your hands." He donned gloves and turned back to the man with cotton swabs, various disinfectants and bandages. "It will take a few days for your knuckles to heal, just try to keep them clean and dry as possible, and change the dressing twice a day."

"I thought with your big brain you could just instantly heal my cuts."

Dr. Parker laughed, "well my mutant powers haven't kicked in as yet, so for now you will just have to heal at the rate of a normal human being."

Sam looked down, feeling even more miserable than before, that she had no one in her corner like that, no close relationship with anyone like that. Growing up the way she had with kids being cruel to her because her mom had to work two jobs just to make ends meet, and still not being able to afford all the luxuries they had made her very wary of making friends and getting close to people, and it didn't help that she was a scholarship student at an exclusive ivy league university, where 99% of the students were descendants of royalty (or acted like they were royalty), at least they had mommy's and daddy's money to back up their behaviour. 

Shaking her head as if to get rid of those negative thoughts, she had the passing thought of ripping the I.V. out of her arm and making a run for it when her doctor came back in the room.

"Please tell me I can go home doc."

The doctor looked apologetic "I'm afraid to inform you miss Wilson that we will have to keep you overnight for observation."

"What?" Sam's mind began racing a mile a minute, doing the calculations in her head to figure out how much deeper in debt she would be walking out this place after an overnight stay.

"You are slightly underweight for your build and you came in slightly dehydrated, not to mention-"

"No." she cut off the doctor.

"Excuse me?"

"I  _cannot_  stay overnight."

The doctor's face changed from one of confusion to downright concern.

"Miss Wilson, I don't think you understand; you aren't well enough to go home just yet." 

He turned her test results so that she could see them, but they were blurry, probably from the dizziness she was feeling due to the lack of food she has had in the past few days but she said nothing, deciding not to give him any more ammunition needed to keep her for an expensive overnight observation.

"Your blood pressure is so low I'm surprised that you're still  _breathing_."

Sam chuckled mirthlessly at that.

"Do whatever you need to do so that I can go home _tonight_."

"Miss Wilson, I am advising you that you need to stay for overni-"

Sam shot up on the bed from her lying position, "I CANNOT  _AFFORD_  TO STAY OVERNIGHT!" She hadn't meant to yell but she was at her wits end the doctor in front of her had no idea of her financial struggles and all she wanted to do was go home to her ratty apartment and equally if not more ratty mattress.

"Fuck." She instantly felt even dizzier from the exertion and laid back down, covering her eyes with her arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout at you, you're only doing your job."

"Everything alright over there Wade?" The Dr. Parker asked.

 _'Shit.'_  Sam had completely forgotten that there were two other persons in the room.

"Just trying to explain to this young lady why it's important that she remains here for overnight observation."

Sam kept her arm over her eyes as she heard footsteps walking towards her bed.

"Let me see that." Dr. Parker's voice, as well as the shuffling of paper reached her ears. There was a pregnant pause and then:

_"How in God's name are you still alive?!"_

"Very tactful Dr. Parker." Dr. Wilson chastised. 

"You definitely need to stay overnight Miss, if we send you home right now only God knows what might happen to you."

Sam squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the tears well up behind them but was determined not to break down in front of three men.

"I-I can't st-" her voice broke and tears fell in hot trails down her temples to be soaked up by her hair. Her face felt hot with shame and she kept her arm over her face, repeating in her head  _'if I can't see them, they can't see me.'_

After getting some semblance of control over her tears and voice, Sam spoke again, "I can't  _afford_  to stay overnight. I am already in debt and I cannot add to that. So do what you can for me here and discharge me, I don't care if it's against medical advice; I _cannot_ to stay."

Her words were met with a tensed silence.

"Alright Miss Wilson, I'll go get your paperwork started, but I am going to start you on another drip as soon as this one is finished, so you will be here for another hour or two and I will be sending you home with some vitamins and iron supplements." Dr. Wilson's voice was no nonsense and Sam nodded weakly.

"I'll go get your discharge papers as well Brock, just sit tight and try not to start anymore fights."

"Whatever you say Dr. Petey." Brock grinned and Sam missed Dr. Parker being professional and flipping his brother the bird. 

The room was silent once again, only the sound of Sam sniffling could be heard. Her head was hurting and she felt so dizzy she thought she was going to be sick.

"Here." 

Sam startled and little and shifted her arm so that she could see who had spoken to her. It was the older brother of Dr. Parker, he was holding out a few tissues in her direction. She looked from him to the tissues and back to him, tentatively reaching out to take the offering from him. 

"Thank you." she remained lying down as she dried her eyes and wiped her nose, a bit surprised when Brock took the tissues and threw them away, but he had yet to move and go back to his side of the room.

"You do know that if you go home and something happens to you, it's only going to create more problems and expenses for you?"

Sam's head may have been hurting her but she knew her glare was enough to tell him to 'fuck off.'

Only to her chagrin he laughed.

"Oh honey, I am in the military surrounded by scary ass men and women, some who are bigger than me so you glare is not scaring me."

Sam eyes narrowed, "1)  _Do not_  call me 'honey' 'cause I sure as hell ain't  _your_  'honey.' 2) You should really learn to mind your own business and 3) I know that my problems can increase, but it's a risk I'm willing to take."

"A gambler."

"All my life. Now if you don't mind, I am in need of a restroom." Sam sat up slowly, still feeling dizzy and slowly edged her way off the bed until her feet touched the ground. She kept a hold of the bed, her knuckles pale from how tight she was gripping the I.V. stand until she was clear headed enough to walk, all the while aware of the man watching her.

The first step was ok, the second step a bit wobbly and the third step found the ground rushing up to meet her, the only thing stopping her head from making some serious love contact with the cold hard floor was the strong arm she felt gripping her around her waist and pulling her back up into a very muscular chest.

Sam took a few minutes to regain her bearings from all that sudden movement and took comfort in the strong body she was leaning against, that is until the arm around her waist moved up to her ribs and squeezed, her eyes shooting open.

"When was the last time you had a decent meal?"

"Take your hand off of me." She growled and when the man made no move Sam tilted her head back only to realize  _exactly how much_ taller  _and_  bigger he was than her. He could probably break her ribs with his hand alone if he wanted to from how much weight she had lost, both from stress and a lack of food due to a lack of funds.

"Did you get hit on your head too hard or are you just plain hard of hearing? Take your fucking hand-"

"What's going on here?" Dr. Parker asked.

"Nothing." 

"She took three steps and started to collapse."

Sam and the man said at the same time.

That caused Sam to break free of the man's hold and turned on him hissing "snitch bitch!" Only for the three men to look at her, two in concern and one in amusement.

The man raised his eyebrows, "snitch bitch?"

Sam ignored him instead looking at her doctor, "I was going to rest room and tripped, that's all. Are those my discharge papers?"

Dr. Wade sighed resignedly, "yes."

"Great, give me a few minutes and I will out to sign them."

Sam made sure to aim her best glare at the man who snitched on her as she made her way to the rest room.

Once the rest room door was closed, the man turned to the two doctors in the room.

"Are you sure there's nothing you can do to keep her here? Even I can see that she's not well enough to go home."

Dr. Wade shook his head, "sadly no, the most I can do is give her a prescription for iron tablets and tell her to try and eat more, other than that nothing."

They all turned when they heard the restroom door open and Sam walked out looking a bit paler than when she went in.

"Did you vomit?" Dr. Parker asked.

"No." She had not vomit but she got a nasty surprise when she had pulled down her pants and underwear to find blood between her legs, that definitely added to her problems as it would be just a few more hours until satan's spawn would try to tear its way out of her in the form of menstrual cramps and Sam would be ready to offer up her soul just to make the pain stop. It's no wonder she was feeling even crappier than usual.

The men in the room eyed her and Sam rolled her eyes.

"This I.V. is finished. Are you going to start me on another one so that I can get out of here?"

"Yeah, lie back down and I will get you hooked up."

Sam did as told, all the while making an effort not to look the man who had caught her when she was falling.

"Ok, Brock, you can just follow me and I will get you discharged." Dr. Parker spoke up.

He and Brock left the room, leaving Sam alone with her own doctor.

"Brock, that's his name." She mumbled.

Dr. Wade looked at her, "did you say something?"

"No, just talking to myself."


	2. Second Encounters Of The Close Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Mention of rape in this chapter. Nothing graphic, but I am warning you all just in case this is a trigger for you. MENTION OF RAPE!
> 
> I am very happy to see that persons are reading this fic! I hope that you all like it!
> 
> NEW CHAPTER!!!!
> 
> If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> If there are any (many) errors take note that I am posting this after a very long, stressful and tiring week. I am also on painkillers because I fucked up my knee and I have a mild headache.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

**_Two weeks later_**  

Sam stared out the window of the 24 hour diner she had taken refuge in since making one of the hardest decisions she has ever made in her life three hours ago. She glanced down at her bare wrist and felt tears well up in her eyes at the sight of it being bared for the first time in two years. Sam had pawned the delicate gold bracelet her mother had worked hard to buy for her sixteenth birthday and she felt as if a piece of her soul had died when she handed over the bracelet and had gotten just enough money in return to pay her rent and buy some food. 

The only thing left of her mother's was the gold locket hanging around her neck and Sam refused to part with it, preferring to starve to death before she handed over something her mother cherished so much.

A single tear fell down Sam's face, wondering if her life would have been easier if her mother was still alive. She could remember as if it were yesterday when her mother flat-lined in the hospital, doctors unable to revive her again. She remembered feeling so lost and alone in the world, losing the only parent she ever knew and loved.

More tears fell down her face and Sam pulled up the hood her sweater, crying silently in her booth in the dark corner of the diner, taking a small comfort in the fact that it was late at night so there weren't many customers in there. In fact only the waitress and her were in the diner at that moment. Just then the little bell over the entrance rang, signalling the arrival of another customer and Sam slid further down in her seat so as not to draw any attention to herself. 

Brock had stepped into the only 24 hour diner within walking distance of his house, his big, empty and lonely house. He had felt restless for company and hungry so he figured he'd kill two birds with one stone and went out to eat.

The diner was empty, except for him, the waitress who stood behind the counter folding napkins and another customer who looked as if they were trying to become one with the seat.

"Sit anywhere you like hun, I'll be right with you." The waitress said, flashing a warm smile at Brock who returned it.

He took a seat at a booth on the other side of the diner's door so that he could look outside. There was the odd business man and woman making their way home after working late, groups of young people out on the town since it was a Friday night, and the odd car driving along the street with headlights shining in the diner and on the occupants. 

"Know what you want?' The waitress asked when she arrived at Brock's table.

"I'll have fish and chips and a fruit punch." Brock gave his order and the waitress wrote it down.

"Be right back."

Brock went back to staring out the window, watching the life outside, the sound of the diner background noise for him until pieces of the conversation between the waitress and the other customer reached his ear.

"...I'm fine..."

"...you're crying..."

"...just...day..."

"Have some more coffee,...,when you feel like it."

He watched as the waitress went back behind the counter after serving the customer more coffee and he couldn't help it, he subtly watched as the customer chugged almost the entire cup of  _hot black coffee._  His eyes then widened as a car drove pass and the headlights lit up the diner and the customer's  _tear streaked face_  and Brock realised that it was the young lady from the emergency room from two weeks ago. Brock would admit that thoughts about what happened to her plagued him for those two weeks; he wanted to know if she was alright, but had no way of finding out and Peter would not release any information to him, apparently 'patient/doctor' confidentiality overruled being brothers. 

But right here, right now, she was sitting a few feet away from him, with tears running down her face and Brock's heart broke at the sight of her anguish. As Brock looked at her, she seemed as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders and from what he remembered she seemed to be having some financial issues.

He watched as she wiped her face, took a deep breath and reached for her coffee, only to glance up and for their eyes to meet. She looked like a deer in headlights from how wide her eyes got and she hurriedly looked down, finding her coffee to be extremely fascinating. 

Brock knew that he should leave well enough alone but something deep inside of him said that if he let this,  _let her_  slip through his fingers a second time then he would not be getting a third chance. 

 Getting up from his seat he made his way over to Sam, who got tenser with every step he took closer to her.

"Is this seat taken?" He asked once he had reached her booth.

Sam groaned and hung her head, Brock took that as a 'no' and sat down.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Brock taking in Sam up close and Sam staring intently at the table in front of her.

"So how have you been?" Brock decided to break the silence.

Sam looked up at him, her tears finally having dried up, but her eyes were red and puffy. She then snorted and rolled her eyes, "I am  _great_." The sarcasm all but slapped him in his face. "I just enjoy crying silently in diners on Friday nights because _I am great_." 

"About that, why are you out so late on a Friday night? Aren't your parents worried and why didn't they come and pick you up at the emergency room?"

Sam tilted her head, a look of disbelief on her face.

Brock had no idea what he had said, "what?"

"I'm  _eighteen_." She said from between gritted teeth.

His eyes widened, " _oh_ , well that doesn't explain why your parents didn't come get you."

"My mother's dead."

Sam would admit that she took sick satisfaction in shutting up the man across from her  _'Brock'_ her mind supplied.

"Oh, I'm s-"

"Don't." She held up a hand. "I don't know why people always apologise, did you have a hand in killing her? No, then why apologise?" 

"Well I guess because no one knows what to say in such a situation."

Sam rolled her eyes, "whatever," she mumbled.

"What about your father?"

"You mean the man who  _raped_ my mother, resulting in me?"

Again Brock was stunned into silence and he was a military man, it was in his blood so not much shocked him or made him blink but in the little time he interacted with the young lady before him, he seem to be making a mess of everything. He wondered what made her erect walls fifty metres high with barbed wire, security cameras and alarms all around it.

"Don't know, don't care, as long as he does not come back looking for me."

"Listen, Miss Wilson I am so so-" 

Sam levelled him with a glare."

"I keeping putting my foot in my mouth." 

"Smooth save." She smirked.

"Let's start over, I'm Br-"

"Brock." Sam cut him off.

Brock raised an eyebrow, "ok, how do you know my name? And you have me at a disadvantage here, I don't know your first name."

"I heard when your little brother, Dr. Parker said your name." Sam explained.

"Ok, and I still didn't get your first name."

"I didn't give it." Was the fast reply.

"Wow, you don't an inch do you?"

"Give someone an inch and they will take a whole foot out of you." Sam took a sip of her coffee, turning her head to look out the window.

Brock sat back, observing the young lady sitting before him, taking in her far too skinny structure, her clothes that were clean but anyone looking could see that they were second hand and ill-fitting. 

"Stop that."

He blinked confused, "stop what?"

"Sizing me up." Sam looked at him.

And there, no matter how much she was closed off, sad or hungry, there was a fire burning in those big brown eyes of hers.

"Not much else to do when you stop your side of the conversation."

Sam raised an eyebrow, "I wasn't aware we were having a conversation."

"Oh, then what were we doing?"

"Well you trying to break the world record of how many times you could embarrass yourself in the span of less than five minutes and I was watching you do it."

Brock laughed, "well you weren't just watching, you were also contributing." 

"I see that you've made a friend." The waitress walked up to their table, Brock's food in hand and set it down before him, Sam trying very hard not to stare at the delicious meal with how hungry she was, the coffee doing nothing to ease the pains she was feeling. 

"Thank you." Brock smiled at the waitress.

"Sure thing hun." 

As soon as the waitress left, Sam's stomach erupted in the loudest growl, Brock turned wide eyes to her.

"Are you-" he began only to be cut off when her stomach growled again.

Sam had her eyes averted and when her stomach growled again she darted up from the booth, hurrying to pass Brock.

"Wait!" He grabbed her wrist, feeling just how skinny she was and pulling her to a stop. "Please wait."

Sam kept her face turned away, her body tense.

"You're hungry, let me buy you something to eat."

She spun around at this, fury blazing in her eyes, "oh, and pray tell what would you want in return?"

Brock was taken aback by her anger, "nothing, I would just consider it my good deed for the day."

Sam scoffed, "good deed my ass. Everyone wants something in return for the slightest bit of kindness they show, you're no different."

"Ok, you say I want something, I want you to sit back down and let me treat you to dinner, without you thinking that you have to pay me back or that I want anything other than your company for this meal."

She stared down into his green eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity in them; but,  _but_  she _knew_  what people were like, what they  _wanted_  from her when she they offered her help and she had to break one to many arms, knee caps and ribs before she started saying 'no' to their offer. However, something about this man who still had her wrist in his grip said that he was not like them.

"You have to release my wrist if you want me to sit back down."

"Oh!" Brock didn't even realise that he still had a hold on her, with how he was basically begging her not to leave and to allow him to buy her dinner. "Sorry about that. I didn't hurt you did I?"

Sam shook her head.

"Here," he gave her menu, "order whatever you want, don't worry about the price."

She was hungry, ravenous to be more accurate as her eyes scanned the menu and found what she wanted. She caught the waitress's attention.

"Good to see that you will be having something other than coffee, got to get some meat on those bones."

Sam forced a smile, "may I have a bacon cheeseburger, a large fries and a large vanilla milkshake."

"Coming right up."

Once they were alone again Sam looked at Brock and saw that he had yet to begin eating. 

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Nah, I can wait for you to get your food, before I start eating. It's the polite thing to do."

"Your food's going to get cold."

"That's ok, I'll still eat it."

Sam nodded and sat back in her seat, looking everywhere but at the man in front of her. The silence that settled between them was deafening and she wanted something, anything to break it.

"Sam."

"What?" Brock was looking at her with his too intense green eyes.

"My name's Sam, Samantha technically, but I prefer Sam."

Brock smiled at finally getting her name, "well Sam Wilson, it's nice to meet you, I'm Brock Rumlow."

"We met before remember?"

"But we did not know each other's full names." Brock countered and Sam shrugged, opting to look out the window until her food arrived five minutes later.

* * *

"Where are you heading now?" Brock asked once they had exited the diner and walked into the cold night air, where Sam was doing her best not to make her teeth chatter.

"Home."

"And where's home."

"Two trains and a bus ride away." Sam answered, knowing that is not what Brock meant.

"That's not what I meant." He responded, side-eyeing her.

"I know."

"Seriously though, where do you live?"

"And seriously, I am  _not_  telling you where I live, I don't care if you just bought me dinner."

Brock sighed, "I thought we were getting somewhere. I thought we were friends."

Sam chuckled, "you have to have level 7 access before I even tell you the neighbourhood in which I live."

"How do I obtain such access?"

Sam shrugged her shoulders and kept walking.

Brock stopped walking, watching as Sam continued ahead, "Sam."

She turned at the call of her name, "yes?"

"It's late at night and I don't want you taking two trains and a bus to get home at this time of night, let me call you a cab."

"No."

"No? What do you mean 'no’?”

Sam walked back up to him, "Brock, it's not the first or the second time I have made this trip, this late or ever later in the night. I do not want a cab. I am perfectly fine with my usual mode of transportation."

"Sam-"

"Brock," she said his name, the warning clear as day in her voice, "leave it. I said no."

He clenched his jaw, not happy with the situation but Sam had spoken.

"Fine, then at least allow me to walk you to the train station."

"Fine." Sam acquiesce.

"And for the love of God here."

Sam did not have to chance to react before Brock's jacket was placed around her shoulders. 

"I know you are freezing, do not even try to deny it."

Sam said nothing, choosing instead to stick her arms through the sleeves and zipping up the zipper so as to trap the left over body heat for a little longer. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Brock answered and they resumed their walking, destination: the train station.

They walked in silence for twenty minutes until it was broken by Sam.

"It's a bit late in asking this, but you're going in the opposite direction of where you live right?"

Brock smiled, "nothing gets pass you does it?" He teased and Sam rolled her eyes, "yeah I am but it's not big deal."

"Ok."

They walked in silence for a few more minutes, which was then broken by Brock.

"You said that you're eighteen, are you in university?"

"Yeah." Came the soft reply.

"Which one?"

"An ivy league one."

Brock chuckled, "that doesn't really narrow it down for me."

Sam remained quiet, and from the look on her face Brock could see that he should just shut up and continue walking but he just could not leave well enough alone.

"I remember you saying that you were in debt while we were in the emergency room, is it because you're in university? Are you on student loan?"

"Oh my God!" Sam stopped walking and turned to look at Brock, annoyance pouring out of her, "is it impossible for you to mind your own business? First in the emergency room, then the diner and now here! This is the second time we're meeting and I know nothing about you besides your name and that you're in the military.  _Nothing!_  And yet here you are, asking all these prying questions."

"You know nothing because you haven't asked me  _anything._ " Brock emphasized. 

"That's because I do not want to know you! You're just a stranger trying to insert yourself into my life just so you can feel better about yourself. Oh, Sam's poor, let me be motherfucking Saint Theresa and help her out!"

"Sam-"

"You know what, here." Sam unzipped his jacket and tore it off of her as if it was on fire and shoved it at him, "thanks for the meal, but the next time you see me, keep your head turned straight and keep on walking, I don't want shit from you."

"Sam." Brock tried again, but she was off like a bolt of lightning, running down the street and turning the corner out of sight. "Shit." He cursed, knowing that he somehow fucked up royally and had no idea of how to fix it, not that it mattered since more than likely he would not be seeing her again.

Deciding that it was high time he made his way home, Brock shrugged on his jack and turned around walking in the direction that they were just coming from; thoughts of Sam and if she will be alright plaguing his thoughts the entire journey.

* * *

Brock leaned against the solid expensive dark Oak wood door of his high class suburban home, the thought of how he and Sam had left things was still running through his head. He took a look at the high ceiling with it chandelier hanging over the entrance for his house, the crystal pieces shining like diamonds in the light and making the marble floor and staircase sparkle to the point where it his eyes and he snorted. Walking to the staircase Brock switched off the downstairs light and made his way upstairs, aided by the lights he had left on before leaving out, turning off each as he walked by, the haunting silence following him as he entered his room and closed the door, hoping to lock out his loneliness but it stuck to him like glue.

This is the house he grew up in, the house that homed the family he would always come home to be it from school, university, the military until it wasn't anymore, with half of his family dead and the other living with his best friend, Brock had never known that loneliness could be so encompassing until he started coming back to an empty mini-mansion that he did not have to the heart to sell, after all it is where he grew up and where he wanted to raise his family. He had dreams of making love to his wife under the skylight where the indoor pool is, of hearing the squealing laughter of his children as they chased each other inside the house and outside across the always well maintained lawn.

However, that's all they were and all they would remain, dreams; Brock scoffed to himself, knowing that he would never be able to open up himself to another woman like he did with his ex, only to have her betray him in the worst way possible. But,  _but_  there was something about Sam Wilson he could not put his finger on, he needed her, what for he didn't know.

_'Liar.'_

That little part of his mind whispered darkly to him.

_'You know exactly why you want her.'_

Brock, stripped himself of his clothes and hurried into the shower, hoping that the hot water would help ease his thoughts.

_'You are lonely and want something from Sam.'_

He held his head under the streaming water, trying to drown those thoughts but they persisted.

_'And it is something you can get from her, for a price, but it doesn't have to be at the expense of you heart.'_

_'She's poor.'_

His head snapped up, "she's poor."

Turning off the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked back into his bedroom, grabbing his cell phone and hitting speed dial, he listened as the line rang three times before it was answered.

_"Hello?"_

"Steve."

_"Brock? Is everything ok? Are you and Peter alright?"_

Brock loved that Steve Rogers was the Captain of his squad, the man was the epitome of the boy next door and could be scary as well when warranted, but he had a heart of gold for all those he considered family and both Brock and Peter had the privilege of being family to Steven Grant Rogers.

"Yeah, we're good. It's just that I need a favour."

_"Sure. What is it?"_

"If I describe someone to you would you be able to draw the person?"

There was a beat of silence.

_"Are you sure everything's ok? Is this criminal sketch you want or something?"_

"No, dear God no, I just need to find someone. I need to find this person and apologise to them and make things right."

_"Brock what did you do?"_

"Nothing illegal or immoral, I was just a bit intensive and I need to rectify the situation."

_"Brock you've insulted many persons in your life, even those who could have you dishonourably discharged from the military and you have never once thought of apologising to them. What's so different with this person?"_

"I can't really explain it, but when I can I will. So can you draw someone from a description?"

_"Once it's a really good and detailed description sure."_

"Great, would you be able to come over to my house tomorrow?"

_"Yeah, and Brock,"_

"Yeah?"

_"When you find this person, I want to meet them."_

Brock smiled, "yeah, I just have to get them to forgive me first."

Once he ended the call with Steve he called another number.

_"Resident tech genius and overall awesome person here. How can I help you?"_

"Tony, if I give you the name of someone along with an  _extremely detailed_  drawing of them would you be able dig up  _everything_  about them?"

_"Rummy, I hacked into the Pentagon when I was fifteen, hunting down someone is not that hard."_

"So is that a 'yes?'"

_"Hell yeah, since you and the team have all gone on leave, I have been bored out of my mind, not to mention Natasha and Pepper have locked me out of my own workshop! Can you believe that?! How am I supposed to create awesome lifesaving and stealth armour for you assholes if I am locked out of my lab?"_

"You must be going crazy." He said dryly. 

_"More than I already am. Hey, so you want to give me the person's name and I can start the hunt for them?"_

"Sure, it's Samantha Wilson, although she prefers 'Sam', she's eighteen years old, black, 5'1", dark brown eyes and hair, extremely slim, her mother is dead and she's either on student loan or scholarship at an ivy league university."

_"That sure is a lot of **detailed**  information you have for an  **eighteen**  year old girl."_

Brock ignored that jab at her age when he remembered something important.

"Oh and that same night I was at the emergency room, she was there as well. Hope that can help you as well."

_"Yeah, this is all helpful. I will let you know what I have as soon as I find something. Remember to get me that drawing."_

"Thanks Tony."

_"Yeah, and good luck with whatever this is."_

Brock ended the call, "I am going to need all the luck in the world to pull this off."

* * *

Sam slammed the door to her apartment shut in fury.

She was fuming with herself for how she had blown up at Brock when he was just being nice to her, but she also hated how he was asking all those questions. People weren't just nice for no reason, whether they wanted, money or her body in payment, even something as small as a few answered questions, they always wanted something from her. 

Taking the two steps to the bathroom of her broom closet of an apartment, Sam turned on the faucet and brushed her teeth, staring at her reflection in the mirror and the sad, world wary eyes of a young girl stared back at her.

"The toughest of steels are forged in the hottest fire."

She said to her reflection.

"This," she looked around the  _tiny_  bathroom, "is just a bit stop. There is much better in store for me."

She turned off the light and stripped off her clothes, donning her favourite pair of pyjamas, Sam climbed under the neat mass of blankets on her mattress and fell asleep.


	3. The Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brock does some research (online stalking).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very happy to see that persons are reading this fic! I hope that you all like it!
> 
> ANOTHER NEW CHAPTER!!!! :D It's a bit shorter though.
> 
> If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> If there are any (many) errors take note that I am posting this after a very long, stressful and tiring week. I am also on painkillers because I fucked up my knee and I have a mild headache.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

"I found your girl." Tony announced once Brock and Steve had set foot in his home office.

"So you mean to tell me that you do not require my piece of art that I spent the last  _two hours_  creating?" Steve held up the drawing looking put off.

"I will have it framed." Brock responded as he raced to take a look at the computer screen. "Holy  _shit_ , it really is her." 

On the computer screen was a coloured photo of Sam, it was from her driver's license. He took a look at her address, "fucking hell, she literally lives at hell's door."

Steve and Tony joined him as they looked at all the information and pictures he had found on Sam.

"She's one smart cookie." Tony as he brought up her school transcripts. "Sam's a straight 'A' and well-rounded student all the way from kindergarten up to middle school, where she secured a full ride scholarship to attend one of the most exclusive and prestigious  private high schools, where she secured another scholarship to attend an even more exclusive and prestigious university. I want to meet this young lady."

Right there, under her personal information was her academic information, with the name of the university she attended as well as the location.

Steve whistled,  _"_ Where did you find her Brock?" 

"Emergency room."

Steve looked at Tony and rolled his eyes, knowing that his subordinate had gotten into another fight but knew the fucker he had probably had put in a body bag had deserved it.

"Seems she threw herself into every extracurricular activity and sport that she could, so as to get scholarships and to get into that particular university." Brock read further.

"Brace yourself as you scroll down, shit gets real nasty." Tony warned.

He already knew what to expect, but expectations and having the words confirming what you were told glaring right back you are two totally different things. 

"Abigail Maria Wilson, raped at the age of fifteen, her assailant was never caught. She gave birth to Samantha Theresa Wilson, born September 23, 1998."

He read the information out loud.

"She died from complications arising from an aneurysm, doctors were unable revive her."

Brock looked at the date when she died and then back at Sam's birth date.

"Holy shit." He breathed.

"What?" Steve asked as he looked through the photos Tony had printed of Sam, ranging from her as a child to the young lady she is now, wondering how the hell Tony got his hands on some of these.

"Sam's mother died,  _literally_  three months after she turned eighteen and  _two_  days before Christmas."

"In addition to leaving Sam with a ginormous hospital bill that she is having serious trouble paying off." Tony read the informed them.

Brock stared at the information presented on the screen before him, his mind working a mile a minute.

"What are you thinking Brock?" Steve eyed him suspiciously, "I know that face."

"I may have a solution of solving her financial problems as well as mine."

"What problem do you have?"

Brock ignored the question that his Captain asked him.

"Hey Tony can I have a print-"

"Print out?" Tony handed him a dossier folder with everything he had found on Sam. "Way ahead of you." He opened his mouth to say something but hesitated.

"What is it?" 

"Listen Brock, you're our friend so I know that you are not up to something that immoral, but whatever it is be careful with how you involve that young girl. Life seems to have dealt her a terrible hand and I don't think she needs anymore hardships in her life."

"I am not going to hurt her. I am simply going to propose a business deal and hope that she says 'yes.'" Brock explained.

"Let us know how it goes, yeah?" Steve asked.

"Will do. Now I have to go see Bruce, I need a draft contract drawn up." Brock said as he made his way out of the room.

"Good luck!" Tony shouted, then turned to Steve, "what the fuck is he up to?!"

"I have not the slightest idea."

* * *

Brock explained what he required from Bruce, his lawyer and long-time friend, only to have the man look at him as if he had grown a second head.

Bruce removed his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose, Brock stood quietly watching him.

"Do you know how crazy you sound? And I am friends with Tony, so I know crazy."

"I know, but I think it is is something that can benefit us both; especially her."

"And she knows nothing about this plan of yours."

"Correct, which is why I asked you to have a draft of the contract drawn up, in case she wants to amend anything."

"What makes you think that she's even going to agree to this?" Bruce was very curious.

"Nothing, I am going to propose my idea and hope for the best."

"'Hope for the best' he says." Bruce mumbled and shook his head in disbelief. "I hope it works out in her favour."

Brock looked hurt, "what about in my favour."

"You're rich, go buy yourself a new bike if she says 'no.'"

"Hopefully she doesn't."

* * *

Thanks to Tony's next level hacking skills, Brock had a copy of Sam's class schedule, so he was aware of which days were her lightest in terms of class load and decided to go see her on a Friday when she only had two classes and was free for three hours before heading to her  _secret_ part-time job.

He parked his bike by the curb outside the Social Sciences hall, where her second class would be ending in five minutes. He leaned against it, watching as students walked by, a few throwing cursory glances his way and a few throwing flirty smiles as well, but he ignored them as he was keeping watch for  _one_  student on particular. 

He would have been lying if he said he was not feeling nervous. He had been in multiple life and death situations before, but the thought of what he was going to propose to Sam had butterflies going crazy in his stomach. However, he soon spotted her exiting the building ahead of her classmates. 

Brock watched as Sam walked, her head held high as she went about her business with the sort of walk he would associated with someone who literally had guns on her hips. She had this sort of walk that screamed  _'do not fuck with me'_  and Brock found that he liked it.

As she walked right by him, not even bothering to throw a glance in his direction, he decided it was now or never and he called out to her.

"Sam!"


	4. Marry Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam needs money; Brock has money.
> 
> Brock is lonely; Sam is single.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really like this new fic. I have so many ideas for it and I have to get them out of my head before I forget them, that is basically the reason why I have submitted three chapters back to back. I am currently working on the next chapter. Regarding my other Sam/Brock fic, I have not forgotten about it, the next installment is coming along nicely. :)
> 
> ANOTHER NEW CHAPTER!!!! :D This one is longer.
> 
> If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> If there are any (many) errors take note that I am posting this after a very long, stressful and tiring week. I am also on painkillers because I fucked up my knee and I have a mild headache.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

Sam stopped at the call of her name and turned, a few persons turned to look as well and her eyes widened when she saw Brock leaning against his Harley Davidson, aviator sunglasses on, but she knew he was looking right at her.

He smiled at her and Sam had to admit that he was even more attractive when he did so.

"May I have a moment of your time?"

He was oh so polite and Sam narrowed her eyes at him, "no." With that she continued walking.

"Sam, wait," she heard footsteps behind her, "please just hold up a second," and felt a strong calloused hand wrap around her bicep, pulling her to a halt.

"What the hell are you doing  _here?!_ How the fuck did you even find me?!" She hissed and then tilted her head up when she realized that she was glaring at his chest.  _'Fucking tall motherfucker'_ she thought as she stared at her reflection in his aviators, which he then took off and she found herself staring up into intense green eyes.

"Listen, I just wanted to apologise for that night after we left the diner. I was way outline, I should not have pried and I am sorry that I made you angry and thought that I wanted something other than your company."

Still staring up in his eyes, Sam said, "you still have not told me how you found me."

Brock scratched the back of his head, knowing that the truth would not go over well with her right now, especially if he was to get her to agree with what he came here to ask her.

"Finding people is kind of a part of my job. Remember, I'm in the military, Special Forces."

"Ok, so you've done what you came to do now let go." Sam tried to tug her arm from Brock's hold but he held on.

"Actually no, apologising was just one of the reasons why I came here."

Sam blanched, " _'reasons'_  you have more than  _one_  reason as to why you are here at my place of study?"

"Yes."

"Fine. What is it?" The quicker he told her what he was here for the quicker she could head to the library to continue working on her paper on culture and behavioural habits. 

"It's something I need to show you."

Sam looked at him, blinked, tilted her head and blinked again, "I beg your pardon, but I don't think I heard you.  _Show me_? You really think I am going anywhere with you? You're a stranger who showed up out of nowhere at my university after somehow finding me out the millions of people living in this country, so no, I am  _not_  going  _anywhere_  with  _you_  for you to show me anything."

"Sam please -"

"Is there a problem here?" A smooth voice with a strong accent asked. 

Both Sam and Brock turned at the sound of the voice to see a young man, who looked to be a few years older than Sam watching them. He had dark brown hair, striking blue eyes, had a lithe build that was covered with skin tight black jeans with the legs tucked into boots, he was wearing a forest green henley shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and a plaid green shirt was tied around his hips.

Sam recognised him, she had seen him around campus before, but their paths had never crossed until now.

"I asked," he looked pointedly at where Brock's fingers were still wrapped around Sam's arm, "is there a problem here." The young man looked to be about 5'7" tall, but ready to tear into Brock if Sam said 'yes.'

Before Brock could open his mouth, Sam beat him to it, "no, there is no problem here." She looked at Brock, "let me go," and he surprisingly did so, his intense green eyes having a staring match with the young man's green own.

Sam rolled her eyes, she could feel the testosterone choking her.

"Brock."

"Yes?" His eyes did not move from the other male standing before them.

"You said you had something you wanted to show me, so show me."

 _That_  got his attention.

"What?"

"Whatever it is that is so important you had to hunt me down just to show me, let's go see it; I don't need you starting a fight here."

Brock stood there staring at her.

"Now." She snapped, "before I change my mind." That got him moving. 

"Miss are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, I am." Sam responded not even bothering to look behind her as she pushed Brock ahead of her back to his bike. "I hope you have an extra helmet, because there is no way in hell I am getting on that thing without proper protection."

Brock grinned.

"What the fuck is so funny?"

"You are the first woman I have met that has not run scared at the sight of my bike."

Sam rolled her eyes, "well, with where I grew up, a bike's nothing to be scared of, so give me a helmet."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Whatever."

Brock mounted the bike and Sam found purchase on his shoulders and swung her leg over, straddling it behind him. She wasn't afraid or shy to wrap her arms around his middle to ensure she did not fall off while riding.

"This better be something good." She shouted over the roar of the bike.

"It is. I promise."

"A promise is a comfort to a fool." Sam mumbled, her voice being drowned out by the bike's engine so that Brock did not hear what she said.

* * *

Sam watched as the scenery flew by them, the roar of the bike drowning out everything else. However, she noticed that they had entered what seemed to be a residential area,  _an affluent_ residential area _._

_'Where the hell is he taking me?'_

What little of the houses Sam could see before they flew pass them were that they were big, beautiful and the lands around them were well maintained.

About twenty minutes later Brock pulled up in front of a fancy black wrought iron gate, the bike idling as the gates slowly opened, beyond the gate was a _long_  tastefully decorative cobblestone drive way and as they drove up, a house that Sam only ever saw in magazines and in her dreams came into view.

_"Holy shit."_

Brock brought the bike to a stop and cut the engine.

Sam was still gaping up at the mansion before her, "holy  _shittttttt_."

He laughed, "it's something isn't it?"

"Whose is it?"

Mine."

Sam drew back and looked at Brock then the house and back to Brock. She then braced her hands on the space on the seat created when she drew back and gracefully jumped off the bike, once her feet hit solid concrete, she immediately put distance between her and Brock while removing the helmet from her head. 

"What the fuck kind of work do you do in the special forces to be able to afford even a brick that built this palace?"

The mistrust in her eyes cut Brock to the core and he was up and off the bike in no time, trying to rectify the situation which had been muddy from the start and he hadn't even gotten to the punch line as yet.

"It belonged to my aunt and uncle." He began explaining, "they were extremely wealthy and left me this house when they died."

Sam was still looking at him with clear suspicion on her face. "What did you want to show me?"

"Well this," Brock waved at the house, “and what is inside."

"Why would you want to show me your big ass house? Are you giving it to me?"

"That is a possibility." Brock said with seriousness and that brought Sam up short.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Brock ran a hand through his hair, "this is not going how I planned."

"Really now?" Sam crossed her arms over her chest and jutted out her hip. "And how exactly did you plan this?"

"Well, I was going to invite you in, and present to you a proposition that I think would be extremely beneficial to us both."

Sam eyes narrowed at that word.

"Proposition." She laughed mirthlessly, "I see, I have had many  _propositions_ thrown at me before and I was not interested then and I certainly am not now, even if it's some rich army brat propositioning me. Go to hell Brock."

"Army brat?" Brock said to himself as Sam walked off in the direction of the gate, planning to get out of dodge fast.

"Sam! Sam! Please wait! Let me explain!" He grabbed her arm and she spun around aiming a kick behind his knee which he dodged and in doing so release her arm.

"Touch me again and I will scream." She threatened.

Brock held up his hands in surrender, "I'm sorry, but Sam I'm just asking for you to hear me out. There is no harm in doing so."

Sam sighed and turned around to continue the long ass trek to the gate.

 _"For fuck's sake."_  Brock mumbled and jogged to catch up to her stepping in front of her and blocked her path each time she tried to side step him. "An inch."

"What?" Sam looked up at him confused.

"An inch, just give me an inch." He was close to falling on his knees and begging if it got him what he wanted.

"You're not one to give up easily are you?"

Brock flashed a cocky smile, "no, I'm not."

"Well tough shit." Sam brushed pass him, "it was nice knowing ya'."

He watched in utter despair as Sam walked away from him. Seeing no other way to prevent her from leaving, Brock shouted out, "marry me!"

Sam stopped dead in her tracks and slowly she spun around,  _"what?"_

Brock closed the distance between them, "marry me."

Sam stood there, speechless and stunned and then much to Brock's horror she started laughing. 

"You are either fucking crazy or this must be a very elaborate prank. Where are the cameras?" She spun around in a circle, looking for imaginary cameras.

"It is not a prank and the jury is still out on whether I am crazy or not." That got a small genuine smile out of Sam and a shake of her head.

"We are strangers to each other and you are asking me to marry you."

"Yes, listen just come inside with me and allow me to explain  _everything_ to you in  _detail_ and after, if you still want to leave, I will give you a lift to the train station, although I am hoping that you will say 'yes.' So how about it?"

Sam bit her lip and took in her surroundings, they were so far in that no one would hear her if she screamed and she would not get very far if she tried to run. She knew that she was going against everything her mother told her about entering strange men homes especially when she was by herself, but she was extremely curious about what he had to say.

"How about this, I will give you the inch you want but we sit out here on your front steps and you explained  _everything_ in  _extreme_  detail. I am not setting foot in your house."

Brock agreed to her terms immediately, "yes, we can do that, just let me run inside and grab something real quick, it's some documents I want you to look at."

"Just one more thing." Sam added, "I need to borrow you phone to let my boss know I won't be coming in today."

"Sure." He gave her his phone and left her to conduct her business while he ran inside to grab the draft contract. Sam contacted her boss, explaining that something unexpected came up and she gave him the address of where she currently; she may have been giving Brock an inch but her mama didn't raise no fool.

In less than a minute Brock was back outside, a brown manila envelope in his hands. Sam took a seat on the steps and Brock sat beside her, leaving a respectable amount of space between them. She turned slightly and looked at him expectantly.

"This is a draft of a contract I had a lawyer friend of mine draw up for you to look at." Brock gave the document to her which she began to read. "You may make any amendments you want or feel is necessary, add or omit anything."

Sam read the document in her hands and once she was finished she looked at Brock as if he had grown a second head.

"This," she waved the draft contract, "states that you only want  _four_  things from me: that I accompany you to military functions or anywhere else you may want my companionship, that I see you off when you are being deployed and be home when you are returning home for leave in order to greet you, that I wear a wedding ring of your choosing and that I remain faithful while we are married, which you will be respecting as well."

"That is correct." Brock confirmed.

"Brock." Sam sighed and looked away, she glanced back at him and gave a small laugh. "Brock in this contract, it says that upon our marriage I am to be added to your will in case anything should happen to you. That I will receive your military pension in the event of your death, I have none restricted access to your bank accounts,  _all your money_. I will receive  _two million dollars_  for each year we have been married upon the termination of it. Oh, not to mention," she flipped to:

 

**_ PAGE 4 _ **

 

**_ Section A _ **

 

**_ Subsection II  _ **

 

**_All debts incurred by Samantha Theresa Wilson, whether before or after marrying Brock Eugene Rumlow, will be paid off in full by the latter party._ **

And turned the contract around so that Brock could see the section she was pointing at.

"I know what it says Sam, I dictated what should be in it."

"It just seems more in my favour." She said thinking about her mother's hospital bill that would finally be paid off in one go if she went along with this seemingly crazy idea. Sam seriously wondered what Brock would say when she told him about the three hundred thousand dollars debt that was her mother's overdue hospital bill.

"As it should be; Sam I am asking a lot of you. Yes, it's just a contract marriage, but it is still marriage none the less, for all I know you are already spoken for."

"I am not." Sam confirmed something that Brock already knew.

She leaned back on the step, propping herself up on her elbows and looked up to the clear blue sky, watching as some bird flew overhead. It was clear that she was thinking by the way her eyes suddenly widened and she turned her head slowly to look at Brock.

"I am basically going to be looked after financially."

"Yes." He replied.

"I saw nothing in this contract about sex."

Brock knew where she was going with this and hastened to inform her, "I'm lonely ok. I am lonely and all I want from you is companionship and the promise that you will remain faithful while I am gone and be  _here_  when I come home. Other than that, I want nothing else from you.  _Nothing._ So you will not be my glorified prostitute, if that is what you were thinking."

Sam nodded and cleared her throat, turning to look up at the mansion, shielding her eyes from the glare as she tilted her head back to look even further up.

"Would you like a tour?" Brock asked, hope shining in his eyes.

"Yeah, sure." They both stood up, the contract still in Sam's hand. "I am going to hold onto this and read it over, I am not saying 'no,' but I am not saying 'yes' either. I need time to think about this."

"That is not a problem," he opened the front door for her and allowed her to enter first, "I ship out again in three weeks’ time, do you think you will be able to give me your answer in a week's time?"

Sam was distracted as she entered the large foyer, her eyes taking in everything from the shiny marble floor and staircase to the large crystal chandelier. Brock came to stand beside her.

"Sam?"

At the sound of her name she responded, "shipping out three weeks’ time, want an answer by next week Friday, sure, I can do that."

She walked off and Brock followed her as she stepped into what appeared to be a sitting room with large comfortable looking couches, and four huge French windows that provided a lot of natural light as well as a beautiful view of the manicured lawns at the side of the house. Sam walked from room to room downstairs, with Brock still trailing behind her, watching her taking in the luxury surrounding her, until she ended up in one of the largest kitchens she had ever seen.

"This was my step-father's favourite room in the house. He would have it remodelled once every four years to keep up with the times." Brock looked around the room fondly. As Sam ran her finger tips along the black marble counter tops.

"It’s beautiful."

"Wait until you see the bedrooms." Brock smiled and gestured for Sam to follow him. As she walked to the staircase leading from the kitchen to the upper level of the house she spotted something outside, slightly removed from the view the kitchen offered of the sprawling lush green lawn.

"What is that?" She asked as she walked to the French doors leading outside. Once fully outside she had a clear view of what it was and her face fell, Brock instantly picking up on this.

"Not fond of pools?" He asked gently.

"No."

"May I ask why?"

Sam looked at him and sighed, "I do not know how to swim, I never learnt and back in middle school some of my crueller classmates that it would have been funny to grab me and throw me in."

"Jesus Christ, Sam." Brock was horrified and he had seen some messed up shit from being in the army, but for children be that cruel was something else.

Sam shrugged, "the janitor saw the entire incident and pulled me out. My mother was not amused when she was informed of what had happened."

"So what happened? Were they expelled?"

"Yeah," Sam smiled maliciously and Brock shuddered, making a mental note to never seriously piss her off. "My mother pressed charges and they were expelled and sent to s reform school."

"Well it's great that you got justice."

"Not so much, the other kids just got crueller with their words and pranks but they made sure  _never_  to lay a finger on me. The school administrators knew what was happening, but there was so much and no more that they could do."

"Why didn't you transfer schools?"

"Because I wanted a scholarship that was only for the most outstanding student in my school and I was not going to give it up. I figured it was the fires that I had to walk through to get what I wanted and their cruel words only made me stronger for the stupider shit I had to face in high school and even now in university."

"I'm sorry you had to experience all that."

Sam shrugged again, "it is all in the past; these days, whatever bullshit people want to say to me, I just let it roll off my back like water. Now, I would like to finish the tour."

Brock knew what Sam was doing and went along with it, "right this way," he allowed her to re-enter the house before him."

"Ever the gentleman." She teased.

Brock led her upstairs, Sam taking in the expensive art work and decorations on the wall as she passed them. Once they were on solid landing staring down a long hallway, Brock started opening doors and speaking.

"There are ten bedrooms and twelve and a half bathrooms; each bedroom has its own bathroom and the two halves are downstairs."

Sam nodded and stuck her head into the first room, which was huge and lavished. The bed looked like something out of a movie with how big it was, the bed covering were a pristine white as were the bed frame and the other furniture in the room. She wondered how the place was kept so well maintained especially with just one person living here.

As if he read her thoughts Brock said, "I have a trusted cleaning crew of twelve persons, who comes in three times a week. And Mrs. Miller, my house keeper stops by to supervise them and to check on the house. You will like her, she's always telling me that I should not be alone in this big house."

Sam made no comment on how she will be the one in this big house should she say 'yes.'

The hall that they went down only had five bedrooms (each with its own colour scheme), the only other rooms were a library which Sam was in love with and another sitting room with a grand fireplace.

"And now for the other hallway." Brock doubled back and Sam followed him.

The first door led to a bedroom that Sam instantly fell in love with. The colour scheme for this room as blue and she loved how the furniture was beautifully carved but at the same time simple. The light wood used blended well with the different shades of blue. It also over looked the backyard so there was a great view off the flowers and trees.

"Sam." Brock was standing at the door watching her, a knowing look in his eyes, he smiled at her, "this room, it can be yours."

"If I marry you." It was a statement not a question.

"If you marry me."

"Let's just finish the tour before I make any life changing decisions."

The next room they approached was two doors down from the room Sam liked and on the opposite side of the hall. Brock threw the door open and allowed Sam to step inside. 

"I am guessing this is your room."

Brock grinned, "what gave it away?"

"Well not the subtle camouflage duffel bag sitting in the middle of your bed."

Brock laughed and Sam eyed the room, an odd look on her face.

"What?"

"Nothing, just..."

"Just?" He prompted.

"Just a really interesting colour scheme is all." There was mischief in her eyes.

"I will have you know that this shade of orange just happens to the exact shade of a setting sun." Brock said, mock offended.

"Keep telling yourself that." Sam said under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"I thought so."

"Is there anything else?"

"Yeah, there's a game room, and a mini-movie theatre on the ground floor."

 _"Movie theatre."_  Sam echoed.

"The laundry and ironing rooms are also on the ground floor, pass the kitchen, down a short corridor on opposite sides, the gym is at the opposite end of the house, you can walked through the sitting room by the foyer, down a short corridor and it is the only room around there. Oh, and we have a music room."

That caught Sam's attention.

"Is there a piano in it?"

"You play the piano?"

"Yeah, I used to play at clubs for tips."

"Well not to brag or anything but there's a grand piano in the-."

"Take me to it." Sam said effectively cutting Brock off. "Please."

It was safe to say that Sam lost her mind when she saw the piano and even played a  _short_  piece for Brock at his hesitant request.

The conclusion of the tour brought them to where they had started, outside on the front steps.

That is when Brock remembered with a shock, "I forgot to ask if you wanted anything to drink! I am a terrible host."

Sam laughed, "no worries, I would not have accepted anything from you."

"That is beside the point Sam; it is just the fact that I did not ask or offer, my aunt anduncle are surely rolling in their graves."

"Don't beat yourself up over it. Thanks for the tour, I enjoyed it."

"You are welcome."

The two of them stood there, looking at each other as the light evening breeze blew around them, ruffling Sam's hair and making her shiver.

"I should get you to the train station." 

"Yeah, and I promise, you will have an answer next week Friday." Sam thought of something when she said that, "this is something that needs to be done face to face, so let's meet at that diner where we had dinner."

"Ok." Brock agreed. "Also, if you want I can teach you how to swim."

"Even if I say 'no' to this marriage proposal?"

"Even if you say 'no.'"

Sam nodded, and climbed onto the back of the bike, her arms wrapping tightly around Brock's waist as he sped off, the contract safely tucked away in the school bag strapped to her back.

* * *

 

Four hours after Sam had laid down to sleep and it had yet to touch her. She stared up at the dark, grimy ceiling of her apartment, thoughts running through her head about the proposition Brock had made. The contract sat on her kitchen counter where she had left it after reading through four more times before settling in for the night.

She was trying to weigh the pros and cons and the pros were outweighing the cons; as the only con she could think of was  _'what if'_  she met her soul-mate while married to Brock, then what? She knew that she would not cheat on him, because she was not that kind of person, but what if she came to resent Brock because he got in her way of finding love. What if it was the other way around and Brock found  _his_  soul-mate and decided to divorce Sam and make it so that she did not receive a cent of the money she was to get after being married to him?

Her head began to hurt from all these negative 'what ifs.'

 _However_ , if she said 'yes'  _all_ her financial problems would be  _over_. She wouldn't have to worry anymore where her next meal is coming from, how she was going to pay her rent and she would no longer have to live in this shitty apartment.

There was still the niggling feeling at the back of her head that kept repeating that this was too good to be true. Brock seemed like a good guy, but after a lifetime of it being her and her mother against the world and then her by herself, Sam was wary to trust someone who proposed marriage just for the sake a alleviating her poverty stricken life and his loneliness. 

Knowing that she had a week to make her decision and that turning it over and over in her mind right now was getting her nowhere, Sam closed her eyes determined to fall asleep.


	5. The Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Brock meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final new chapter for the night. I am now exhausted. 
> 
> Regarding the 'marriage contract' I literally googled, "samples of marriage contracts." I found a few and made changes, creating my own marriage contract.
> 
> If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> If there are any (many) errors take note that I am posting this after a very long, stressful and tiring week. I am also on painkillers because I fucked up my knee and I have a mild headache.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

"You know," Sam began, the week she had been given to come to a decision went by in the blink of an eye and before she knew it, Friday had arrived and she was seated across from Brock in the diner they had their second meeting, seated in the same exact booth she sat while crying, "I am struggling undergrad college student, who contemplates dropping out of school every day and getting a full time job, but I know that if I have a piece of paper saying that I graduated from an Ivy League college, I will have a lot more opportunities than without."

Brock placed his cup of coffee back on the table and laced his fingers together, giving her his undivided attention with those intense green eyes of his.

"Sam, you will be provided for financially, books, clothes, meals and everything associated with being a college student will be taken care of."

"My mother died, leaving me with a huge hospital bill to take care of and the insurance was not enough to even put a dent into it and I am now 5 months behind on payments." She said bluntly, watching for a reaction from Brock who looked back at her coolly.

"You do remember that  ** _ITEM 4_**  states that  _I_  will pay off any debts you have."

"It's three hundred thousand dollars."

"Let me know which hospital to make the cheque out to, or would you prefer I pay in cash?"

"Cash- oh my-" Sam wiped her hand down her face. "You are unbelievable and this just seems too good to be true."

"Is that why you are throwing everything in you have in your arsenal to have me back out of this deal before the papers have even been signed?"

"I just want to make sure you know what you are getting yourself into."

Brock raised an eyebrow, "and you do?"

"Yes," Sam snapped, "I would be living the life I have only ever dreamed of."

"And I would have someone to share that big house with."

"That reminds me, why don't you have your brother live with you?" Sam had meant to ask earlier, but better late than never.

"He was living with me for some time, but as he progressed in his residency programme, it was easier for him to live closer to the hospital."

They sat there in silence, the diner was quiet around them this late at night, the contract on the table between them both, Sam's eyes on it and Brock's eyes on her.

"So, what is your answer?" He knew that there was a fifty-fifty chance of this going either way, but he prayed hard that she would give him the answer he wanted.

"Why me?"

Brock blinked, "what?"

"Why me?" Sam repeated. "Why did you choose me for this? I am very sure that you would have had many more women jumping at the chance of such a contract marriage. So I ask again:  _why me_?"

"For the first ten years of my life I knew what it is to not know where my next meal would be coming from, if tomorrow night I would have a roof over my head. I know what it like to scared, not knowing if I was going to survive."

Sam was shocked at his answer; that Brock had chosen to reveal something so deeply personal about himself.

"Until someone stepped in and helped me. Sam," Brock reached across the table and covered her hand with his, "I know that you are and independent young lady, you are a fighter, but is it so bad that someone wants to help you? I know that you have trust issues, I get that, believe me, but I just want to offer you some comfort -"

"Yes."

Brock stared, "what?"

Sam took a deep breath and released it, "yes, I will marry you." She turned her hand over so that their hands were joined and the smile on Brock's face could rival the sun.

* * *

Saturday found Sam and Brock in Bruce's office with an official contract, with Bruce having gone through it in detail for Sam even though she said it was not necessary.

"So we just sign this and we are married, Brock and I?" She looked up Bruce who smiled reassuringly. "Never thought I would ever get married like this." She commented as she put pen to paper, with Brock doing the same beside her.

When they were both done, they gave their contracts to Bruce who signed as witness, made copies and returned the originals to the newly married couple.

* * *

 

_I, **Samantha Theresa Wilson** , now  **Wilson-Rumlow** , hereby agree to follow the outlined provisions below as a way to secure my marriage to  **Brock Eugene Rumlow**. By failing to meet the provisions listed below, this marriage is subject to termination._

_The provisions of which I have agreed to are as follows:_

 

  1. _I will always protect **Brock Eugene Rumlow**  in terms of physical safety and financial stability, nor will I ever make **Brock Eugene Rumlow**  feel as though they are unsafe in the home._



 

  1. _I vow to always talk out my issues with **Brock Eugene Rumlow**. This doesn't necessarily pertain to the issues we directly share with each other, but issues overall to help us both relieve stress and hash out the problems we face daily._



 

  1. _I acknowledge that **Brock Eugene Rumlow’s** military career is as important as mine, and that we both have equal right to talk about what we’re doing in the work/school force. If either of us look to move for a new opportunity, both I and  **Brock Eugene Rumlow** will talk it out, as expressed in provision 2._



 

  1. I vow above all else not to commit adultery or infidelity during my marriage to **_Brock Eugene Rumlow_**.



 

_By signing below, I, **Samantha Theresa Wilson** , now,  **Wilson-Rumlow**  agree to the aforementioned provisions and to marry  **Samantha Theresa Wilson**  until one or both of us decide to terminate the marriage or die._

 

_PRINT: **SAMANTHA THERESA WILSON** SIGNED: S.WILSON_

 

PRINT:  **BROCK EUGENE RUMLOW**              SIGNED:  B.RUMLOW  
  


 

_WITNESS: **ROBERT BRUCE BANNER          **SIGNED: R.B. BANNER_

* * *

_I, **Brock Eugene Rumlow** , hereby agree to follow the outlined provisions below as a way to secure my marriage to  **Samantha Theresa Wilson** , now,  **Wilson-Rumlow**  . By failing to meet the provisions listed below, this marriage is subject to termination._

_The provisions of which I have agreed to are as follows:_

 

  1. _I will always protect **Samantha Theresa Wilson** , now,  **Wilson-Rumlow**  in terms of physical safety and financial stability, nor will I ever make  **Samantha Theresa Wilson** , now,  **Wilson-Rumlow**  feel as though they are unsafe in the home._



 

  1. _I vow to always talk out my issues with **Samantha Theresa Wilson** , now,  **Wilson-Rumlow**. This doesn't necessarily pertain to the issues we directly share with each other, but issues overall to help us both relieve stress and hash out the problems we face daily._



 

  1. _I acknowledge that **Samantha Theresa Wilson** , now,  **Wilson-Rumlow’s** academic career is as important as mine, and that we both have equal right to talk about what we’re doing in the work/school force. If either of us look to move for a new opportunity, both I and  **Samantha Theresa Wilson** , now,  **Wilson-Rumlow** will talk it out, as expressed in provision 2._



 

  1. I vow above all else not to commit adultery or infidelity during my marriage to  _ **Samantha Theresa Wilson** , now,  **Wilson-Rumlow**_.



 

_By signing below, I, **Brock Eugene Rumlow** , agree to the aforementioned provisions and to marry  **Samantha Theresa Wilson** , now,  **Wilson-Rumlow** until one or both of us decide to terminate the marriage or die._

 

_PRINT: **BROCK EUGENE RUMLOW  **          SIGNED: B.RUMLOW_

 

PRINT:  **SAMANTHA THERESA WILSON** SIGNED: S.WILSON  


 

_WITNESS: **ROBERT BRUCE BANNER         **SIGNED: R.B. BANNER_

* * *

Bruce smiled at them, "well I know pronounce you man and wife."

Sam rolled her eyes.

"There was no wedding ceremony but the groom always kisses the bride, so should we seal this deal with a kiss."

Sam pulled back and looked Brock up and down, then shrugged, "why the hell not?"

Brock gently took her face in his hands and Sam tilted her head up as a soft, chaste kiss was placed on her lips. At that moment they heard a camera shutter go off and they broke apart to see Bruce with the camera of his phone aimed at them.

"To commemorate the moment."

"Send that picture to me and  _me only_ , no one else knows about this and I would prefer that they found out from me."

Bruce looked at his friend in disbelief, "you haven't told them?"

Brock looked at Sam, "I wanted to make sure that I had good news before I told them of my crazy idea."

"Sam, brace yourself."

"Why? Should I be worried?" Sam looked between Bruce and Brock.

"No, there is no reason to be worried, Bruce is just being a horrible friend."

"His friends are psychotic, but in a good way." He hastily added.

"Sure, because there is a good way to being psychotic; but what does that say about you Bruce considering you are one of his friends?"

Brock started laughing, "she got you good there Bruce!"

"Not even married to you for five minutes and she's already being mean to me. You are a terrible influence Brock."

"Serves you right for insulting  _our_  friends, I am so going to tell Tony."

"Hey," Sam called to get Brock's attention, "I hate to break this up, but I have to get home and collect my stuff."

"Right we should get going."

"It was nice meeting you Bruce. Thank you for everything."

Bruce smiled warmly at Sam, "you are most welcome and it was nice meeting you too; I look forward to seeing you again."

The newlyweds made their way to Brock’s gun-metal grey _Maserati Levante_ and once they had settled into the luxury SUV, he floored the gas pedal and drove to what would soon be Sam’s old apartment and a distant memory for her.

Sam leaned back in the comfortable leather seats, knowing that they were more than likely over the speed limit, but she was not worried as Brock handled the vehicle with envied ease, he took the twists and turns as if he had created them himself.

After half an hour of driving, the beautiful buildings and scenery gave way to the decrepit and neglected part of the city. Sam had _extreme_ reservations of Brock driving such as expensive vehicle to her poor and at times volatile neighbourhood, but he had assured her that no one would be able to do anything to the car and no one would touch him or _her_. He had a dangerous glint in his eyes when he said that and she knew without a doubt that he would tear into anyone if they came after her or him because of the car they drove in.

An hour later Brock pulled up outside Sam’s sad looking apartment building.

She looked up at the building that had housed her since the death of her mother, the place that she could not call a home because it was too depressing and after today she would _never_ have to return to it.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out she turned to Brock, “let’s just get in and get out, I always hated this place.

* * *

Brock took a look at the tiny broom closet Sam called an apartment, it was the first time he came here and thanked God that it would be last and when he left he would be taking Sam with him.

“Is it sad that I only have my backpack, a duffel bag and three boxes?” Sam looked at her meagre belongings, which consisted of her clothes, some photo albums, school books that she was able to purchase second hand and a handmade blanket that she was never able to part with.

“No, it is not. If anything it saved us a lot of time not having to pack.”

“Yeah, that is an upside to being poor. What I deemed as being donation worthy I left with my land lady, she knows all the centres in town so she will drop them off, the useless broken shit will be dumped.”

“So we good to go?”

Sam turned and looked at Brock, _this man is my husband now, no longer just ‘Brock’_ she thought and said, “let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Brock carried the boxes and Sam her bags as they walked down the stairs from her second floor broom closet of an apartment, out into the afternoon sun. They packed her few belongings into the truck of the Maserati SUV climbed and drove off, and not once did she glance in the rear view mirror at what she was leaving behind. Sam kept her eyes forward, looking at the future that had begun the moment she had met Brock.

When they arrived back at the mansion Brock assisted Sam in carrying her things to her room. She had told him that she wanted the bedroom with the blue colour scheme and he was happy that she would be just a few doors down from him.

Sam pushed open the door and when she saw the queen size bed, it looked so comfortable that Sam did what she wanted to a week ago, which was to walk to it as if in a trance, climb on and when it did not sink with her but remained firm she laid down on her stomach fully and stretched out. 

"Oh my God." She moaned.

"Should I leave you two alone?"

Sam looked over shoulder at Brock and grinned before turning over and flopping down on her back.

"You don't understand, I had to sell my bed and then replace it with a third hand lumpy mattress."

He walked into the room and sat on the edge of her bed, looking down at her as she looked up at him.

"You had to sell a lot of things." It was said quietly.

“The only thing I didn't sell was my soul. It broke my heart when I had to sell my upright piano that my mother had saved for and got me for my fourteenth birthday and the gold bracelet she got me for my sixteenth."

"Well now you have a grand piano to play to your heart's content; but about the bracelet, there’s nothing I can do, however I do hope that this can ease some of your pain."

Sam sat up curious as Brock reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. She instantly knew it was her wedding ring, _but_ she was not prepared for when he opened it to reveal a sparkling 10.28 Carat Blue Lab Sapphire and Diamond Ring in a platinum setting.

She stared at the _boulder_ inside the ring box, because that is the only thing it could be _a fucking boulder_

“I got this for you.”

“Do I even want to know how much this cost?”

Brock looked thoughtful, “no, and even if you did want to know, I would not tell you.”

Sam was still staring at the ring when Brock laughed causing her to look at him.

“Where’s your ring? You have to wear one too ya’ know.”

“I know, I know. It’s here.” He pulled out another ring box and handed it to Sam who opened it to reveal a broad platinum band with four sapphires and diamonds alternating along it.

“You have good taste in jewellery Brock.”

He smiled at the compliment, “thank yo-“

“The same can’t be said for your taste in bedroom paint colours though.” She tacked on savagely, a sweet innocent smile on her face.

“Careful Sam, you might wake up to an orange bedroom.”

Her eyes narrowed, “you wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

“Fine, fine,” she relinquished, “I won’t anymore comments about your questionable choices in bedroom paint.”

“Good.”

“So, do I have to put on my ring or are you going to do it for me?”

Brock smiled and plucked the ring out of the box, he gently took Sam smaller and softer hand in his and slipped the ring on her finger. The sapphire shined brightly and Sam had difficulty looking away from it for the short time it took for her to put Brock’s ring on his finger.

“Are you hungry?”

Sam thought about it and nodded.

“Ok, I will go fix us lunch, while you get settled in.”

“I can help.” Sam made to get up off the bed but Brock gently eased her back down.

“It’s ok, I can do it, just take some time and get settled, I’ll come get you when it’s done.”

Brock left her sitting on her new bed, in her new room, in her new house. She looked around the room and flopped back on the bed.

“Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore.

* * *

 

Brock had made an easy lunch of burgers, tossed salad and lemonade. They sat outside on the patio and ate.

“Ugh, I have to inform the student office of my change in marital status. That is going to be a lot of fucking paperwork.” Sam complained.

“And I have to inform my superior as well. That is going to be interesting.” Brock grimaced knowing that he was in for a world teasing.

“Why?”

“When you meet Steve, the captain of my squad you will know. Is your university _that_ bad?

“My university rules are stupid.” Sam complained, “because they want the students to maintain a spotless academic record, students are not allowed to have part-time jobs outside the campus. However, just my luck that all the part-time on campus jobs were taken. So I had to look for a part-time job off campus and I was blessed with one that was conveniently an hour away from her school, so there was a small chance that I would have ran into any of my school mates.”

She took a sip of her lemonade.

“How were you paid?”

“My boss, bless his heart, knew of my situation, so he is addressed me by a different name and paid me in cash under the table so there was no risk of a paper trail leading back to me.”

Brock nodded, “smart.” He was impressed by Sam and her perseverance.

“Well things started getting rough again, the two weeks after we met in the emergency room.”

“How so?”

“My boss informed me that he and his pregnant wife were moving to be closer to his sister as soon as she gave birth and she did a week later, which is another reason why I was so damn depressed when you saw me in the diner. I was jobless and it was extremely hard finding another one who would do what my previous boss did for me.”

Brock regarded her quietly.

“The scholarship I received only covers my tuition, I need money for everything else.”

“I see, well you do not have to worry about that anymore. Just go and be the full-time university student you are.”

“The eighteen years old, married,” the ring on her finger glinted in the bright sunlight, “full-time university student?”

“Yes, money is no longer a concern for you. You will live in here, in my house, which in a few weeks will be _our_ house once the paperwork has been finalized.”

“ _Our house?”_

“I figured since I dragged you into this, I might as well make sure you are as financially secured as can be. Which in addition is only a fifteen minute drive from your university.”

 _"Drive?_  I do not have a car." Sam pointed out.

"I know, so I will be buying one for you. Any car that you want, I will buy it for you have it done in your name." Brock said it as if it was no big deal.

Sam studied her husband, then leaned forward so that her elbows rested on the table, “so, let me get this straight, if I said that I wanted a Jaguar F-PACE S _you_   _would buy that for me?_ "

Brock stared at her and Sam knew then that he was fucking serious.

"What colour do you want it in?"

Sam gaped, "wait? What? Are you being serious?"

"Yes, now what colour?"

"Royal blue." Was the instant reply.


	6. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam meets another one of Brock's friends; it goes well until it doesn't, then it all goes downhill from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!!!
> 
> I hope that you are all enjoying this story!! :)
> 
> If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

Sam was floating on a cloud, she felt weightless and cool; as she came awake the memories of the previous day came back to her and she remembered that she was no longer living in her dingy apartment because she was now  _married_ to a man she had only met about _four_ times before and had literally only met _three weeks_ ago. 

She could not believe that she had done what she did; marry a man for his money (the 10.28 Carat Blue Lab Sapphire and Diamond Ring on her ring finger, glinting in the sunlight filtering between the gap in the drawn curtains did not lie) and him to her for the companionship that she would provide. She did not even know how old he is- _'wait just how old is he?'_

In less than second she had that thought, Sam was off her bed, out the door and down the stairs that led to the kitchen where she could smell that a feast was being prepared considering that is what woke her up.

"How old are you?" She asked as soon as she saw Brock's back.

"Good morning to you too Sam." The smile in his voice could be heard. 

"Good morning, now answer my question old man."

Brock stopped what he was doing and turned to look at her, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

_"Old man?"_

Sam shrugged, a smile tugging at her lips, "we both know that you are getting on in years, so tell me how many years you are older than me by?"

"You young people these days have no manners, I'm 38 years old and yes, I know that makes me  _twenty_  years older than you."

"Wow, so not only are you far off of the calendar, but you are also a cradle robber, shame on you Brock."

"If that's how it is then do not eat any of the food this ' _cradle robber_ ' made for you."

Sam looked at the spread before her on the kitchen island. "Not even twenty-four hours yet and you are already mistreating me. Is this what married life has in store for me?" She mocked cried. 

Brock rolled his eyes, "just wait until I unleash the water balloons."

That got her attention and she narrowed her eyes, "try it and you  _will_  learn just how well your young wife  _never_ misses her target."

"You look famished Sam," Brock pulled out one of the high island chairs, "why don't you have a seat and eat some breakfast and forget that I said anything about water balloons."

"Don't mind if I do." Sam situated herself on a high chair at the island and poured out some orange juice in a crystal glass before helping herself to eggs, toast, pancakes and some bacon. She had never had this sort of luxury when it came to food so she was going to enjoy it. 

Husband and wife sat there in the morning light, eating breakfast.

"So, I was thinking that after breakfast, I could take you shopping, get you some new clothes. We can make a day of it, get lunch afterwards."

"That sounds fun."

Just then the doorbell rang.

Brock checked the clock, "it's  _ten o'clock_ on a  _Sunday_ , who the hell can that be?"

They heard the front door open and a voice rang out, "YO! RUMLOW! Where the fuck are you?!"

Sam looked her husband and raised an eyebrow.

He hung his head when he recognised the voice.

"I hope you are ready to meet another friend of mine." Brock said before he called out, "in the kitchen jackass!"

They heard footsteps approaching and Sam was curious as to who this newcomer was. 

"I smell breakfast, so I hope your fat ass left some for -" the person instantly cut themself off, blue/grey eyes instantly locking on Sam. "Why hello there ma’am." The newcomer greeted her, flashing a smile that no doubt got him out of trouble numerous times in his life.

"Good morning."

"Are you going to introduce me to your friend Brock?"

 _"Friend?"_  Sam's eyebrow was raised again, "this is going to be interesting."

"I'm missing something. What is it?" The newcomer was looking between Brock and Sam.

Brock got up and went to stand behind Sam, placing his hands on her shoulders, his eyes watching his friend watch them.

"I'd like to introduce you to my wife, Sam Wilson-Rumlow."

_"What?! Wife?!"_

"Sam," he continued speaking ignoring his friend's outburst, "I'd like you meet Sergeant Bucky Barnes, friend and fellow squad mate."

Sam smiled, "nice to meet you Sergeant Barnes."

Bucky looked between Brock and Sam, his eyes zoning on the rings on their fingers wondering how he had missed them considering his job as a sniper and the boulder Sam was sporting. Suddenly though, his eyes narrowed at Brock.

"How old are you?" The question was directed at Sam, but his eyes were still on Brock.

"Do I look  _that_  young?" She turned to look at Brock, "do I look like I am  _underage_?"

"Wait, you're not?"

Sam turned to glare at Bucky, "I am  _eighteen_."

"The devil is a liar."

"Did you just call me a devil and a liar?"

"Did you just call my wife a liar?"

Brock and Sam said at the same time only for her to spin and glare at him, " _that_  is what you heard? He called me a  _devil_  as well."

Bucky was at a loss for words, staring at his friend and his friend's wife.

"Wha-how-when."

"I think we broke him." Sam looked smug.

" _Wait_." Bucky put up a hand, he looked as if something had just dawned on him, "does Steve know?"

"No," Brock sat back down at the kitchen island, "he will find out when I begin the  _Dependent Application'_ this week.

"Ok, so who else knows that you got married? Congrats by the way, considering that you said you were never getting with anyone else after what happened with Rebecca."

Brock choked on his coffee and shot Bucky a death glare who just shrugged it off, sat down at the island and helped himself to the food.

Sam looked between the two men, "who is Rebecca?"

"Satan's spawn of darkness." Bucky responded with any hesitation.  

"Please, don't hold back Sergeant, tell us how you really feel." 

Bucky swallowed before answering, "it's true and please call me 'Bucky.' That woman was something else."

"Well I do not know anything about her; this is actually the first I am hearing about her."

"And hopefully the last." Brock mumbled in his coffee cup.

"When did you two get married?"

Sam looked at Brock, "care to answer that hubby?"

Brock rolled his eyes at her but answered the question, "yesterday."

Bucky nodded, "and when did y'all meet."

Again Brock answered, "three weeks ago."

At that very moment Bucky went extremely still and Brock is reminded of the times when they are on missions and the change can be seen instantly when Bucky goes into 'sniper mode.'

"You mean to tell me that you both have known each other for less than a month and already tied the knot without any of your closest friends being present."

"That reminds me, the answer to your question earlier is:  _no one_  a part from you and Bruce knows about me and Sam and I would like to keep it that way until I have introduced her to everyone myself."

Bucky eyed Brock and sniffed, "I hope you know that Peggy, Natasha and Pepper are going to kick your ass for getting married and not inviting them, Steve is going to kill you with his puppy dog eyes, Tony is going to insist on throwing you a wedding party and Thor is going to give you a goat as a wedding gift."

Sam snorted in her orange juice at that, "who is Thor?"

"Squad member from Finland. He is big, hilarious and loud."

"That is  _quite_  the description."

"Just think of a large hyperactive Labrador."

"He sounds _exhausting_."

"They are  _all_  exhausting." Brock looked pointedly at Bucky, "why are you here again?"

"Oh!" Bucky took a drag of his coffee, "Pepper said that my  _breathing_ was annoying her so she called Peggy and Natasha, who came over and kicked me out of  _my_  own home and told me to go look food elsewhere when I told them I had not eaten as yet."

"And you chose to come here?"

"Well, yeah, figured we could catch up since we have not seen much of each other, but I can see why that is now." Bucky smiled and toasted Sam.

"Well I hate to burst your bubble, but I am taking Sam shopping and then we are having lunch."

"Great!" Bucky looked excited and turned to Sam, stretching across the island to grab her hand, "thanks to Pepper, I know all the best stores for clothes, shoes and all the things you ladies need to have us men whipped."

Sam looked unsure, she thought that Brock's friends might have had an issue with her but the two she had met so far has been nothing but nice,  _but_  it's not the first time people have been nice to her only to turn around and stab her in the back.

"It's up to Brock if you can come." She said getting up and taking her dirty plate and drinking glass to the sink. "In the mean time I am going to get ready, be back in a few."

"Take your time." Brock called after her.

"Dude! What the hell?!" Bucky said once they were alone in the kitchen. "You up and marry a perfect stranger knowing her for only less than a month."

"Keep your voice down Barnes, this house may be big but the walls are thin and sound travels."

"Still, after all that shit with Rebecca and you go and pull this?!"

"You do realise that I am a grown man, capable of making my own choices?" 

"And you do realise that an extremely young woman like her is only after your money? She knows you're a soldier who will be gone half the time you are married, so what is to stop her from-"

Brock spun around, fury pouring out of his body.

"Watch your mouth Barnes that is  _my wife_ you are speaking about and not that it is any of your business but  _I_  am the one who pursued this relationship, Sam  _wanted nothing_  to do with me. _I_ am the one who proposed this marriage that you know nothing about, so shut the fuck up before-" Brock's words were cut off when he saw Sam at the other entrance to the kitchen. Bucky turned to look and immediately felt ashamed at his words.

Sam had used the front stairs to get back to the kitchen and in doing so heard everything Bucky was saying about her. 

"I knew you had something you wanted to say about me  _Sergeant Barnes,_ " her voice was toneless and even, "I just figured what with you being a soldier that you would have had enough guts to say what you had to say to  _my_  face instead of waiting for me to leave the room."

"Sam I am-"

"Save it, I don't want  _anything_  from _you_  and you are not welcome to come with me and  _my_ husband." She turned to walk off, only to turn back around, "oh and what Brock said is all true,  _he_  pursued  _me._  When we first met I wanted nothing to do with him, even more after I learnt that he had money and then when he proposed marriage I was  _very_  hesitant to say 'yes' and even after marrying him I am still wary." 

Sam saw that her mini-confession struck a chord in Brock but she preferred being honest than lying about how she truly was feeling, it would only hurt her more later on.

"I will wait for you in the sitting room Brock."

The two men watched as she left, one with shame and the other with fury, trying calm himself down so he did not end up committing murder so early in the morning. 

Bucky spun to look at Brock, regret burning in his blue/grey eyes.

"Brock I-"

"Listen well here Barnes," Brock's voice was tightly controlled, "you know  _nothing_  about the young lady who you just insulted. I may know her for only less than a month, but I sure as hell know a lot more about her than you may ever will if she ever speaks to you after this, but the one thing I can tell you is that Sam Wilson-Rumlow is no gold digger. The arrangement of  _our_  marriage is no one's business but our own and it will stay that way. Now, I have a shopping and lunch date with my wife, I'm sure you can see yourself out."

He left a remorseful Bucky in the kitchen and went to Sam.

"You ready?"

"Yeah." She answered softly.

* * *

The car ride was silent, Sam staring out the window and Brock staring at the road in front of him, occasionally glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I can feel you looking at me Brock."

 _'Busted.’_ He thought.

"I just want to know if you are ok."

Sam smiled and looked at Brock, "I am a big girl Brock, it's not the first time I have had words thrown at me and I am sure it will not be the last."

"Still he had no fucking right to say those things."

"Brock, relax your grip, I can hear the steering wheel crying out in pain." 

That got a laugh out of him and he did as told.

"I just want to know if all your friends are going to react like that; smile to my face only to call me a 'gold digger' when I step out of the room."

"If they do I will knock them out cold."

"Do you always resort to violence to settle disputes?"

"No, but I just hate assholes who talk shit about stuff they have no clue about in the first place."

"So your motto is: 'talk shit, spit blood. Cause and effect?'"

"Did you just come up with that on the spot?"

"Yes, I did. I am doing a minor in creative writing."

"Shit, I am a complete jackass, I have not even asked what you are studying."

"I am majoring in Psychology with minors in Social Work and Creative Writing."

Brock whistled in appreciation.

"That sounds like a lot."

Sam laughed, "it is, but I am enjoying it and I have an academic route plotted out so that I can still graduate with my class, without having to send an extra semester to finish courses."

"You are something else Sam Wilson-Rumlow."

"I know." The smugness could be heard in her voice.

"And humble too."

* * *

The first store they pulled up in front was one Sam had always passed and wanted to go into but knew she had no money so why bother.

"You should find some stuff in here that you like." Brock said as he opened the car door for Sam.

"I have been meaning to ask this; why would you want to take me shopping? Don't rich usually just throw their credit card at their significant other and tell them to go crazy?"

"Well, when I have friends like Natasha and Pepper, when they  _tell_  me or any of the other guys to go shopping with them, we don't really have much of a choice."

Sam snorted.

"In addition, I am going to give you my credit card and tell you to go crazy, I have a few stores I want to visit, so you will be on your own for a little while, but I will come back to get you."

"Where are you going?"

"Just up the road." Brock pointed behind Sam and she turned to see where he was pointing at.

"Wow, thanks Brock that really narrows it down as to which stores you will be going to."

Brock just smiled, "here," he gave her his credit card, "go crazy and do not worry about the limit."

Sam stared at the piece of plastic in her hand.

"Ok, thank you."

Brock watched as she entered the clothing store before turning and walking down the street.

The coolness of the A.C. in the store was a respite from the warmth outside and Sam took in her surroundings, noting the numerous racks filled with blouses, jeans pants, skirts, shorts, dresses, t-shirts, sleepwear and _swimsuits_ of differentcolours, patterns and designs. After a life time of second-hands and clothes made by her mother, Sam was feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Deciding that t-shirts were the best bet, she walked over to the rack that advertised  _'small'_  and began looking through the different graphic tees.

"Hi! My name is Nola, can I be of some assistance?" A bubbly, curly, redheaded young woman appeared beside Sam.

"Ummm...I am just looking for some new clothes, but as you can see," Sam indicated to herself in an up and down motion with her hand, "I think I might be a bit in over my head."

Nola looked her up and down in a considering manner.

"Well, Spring is approaching so I would suggest some bright and pastel colours, some patterned items such as blouses, skirts, dresses-"

"No." Sam said bluntly and immediately felt bad when Nola's smile fell.

"No?"

"Well, no to the dresses and skirts," Sam thought about it, "well maybe one or two skirts, but  _no_ dresses."

"Miss, forgive my tone but you are not leaving this store with anything less than  _five_  dresses."

Sam laughed, " _five_  dresses! You assume that I have enough money for that amount."

The smile on Nola's face was downright devious.

"You are parked right out front." She stuck her thumb over her shoulder to where Brock had parked his  _Maserati Levante_ suv. "Not to mention I saw your husband give you a credit card."

"How are you so sure that he's my husband? He could be my sugar daddy."

Nola looked pointedly at her left hand and Sam remember the boulder Brock had given her as a wedding ring.

"You have very good eyes."

"That is what happens when you grow up in a family with four cops, two marshals and three F.B.I agents."

Sam whistled, "so I am guessing your parents did not want you in law enforcement."

"My parents are dentists, it's my older siblings who all went into law enforcement. My parents at one point wondered if I was switched at the hospital because I decided to go into fashion. Well enough about me, let's find you some clothes. Do you have a limit?"

"No, Brock, my husband said not to worry about it and to go crazy."

The smile on Nola's face could rival that of the joker's.

"Then let's go crazy."

Nola proceeded to push Sam into a fitting room with  _twenty_ different items of clothing when the item limit was  _five_ pieces. 

"I probably should have told you this at the start," Sam said, pausing to pull a dress over her head and smoothed it down, liking how it fitted her torso and flared, the white background with pale blue flowers made it even more attractive to her, "I am a full-time university students, so I prefer wearing jeans and t-shirts on campus." She took off the dress and put it in the  _'to be bought'_  pile.

"Any colour preference for the jeans?" Nola called out, finding various t-shirts for Sam.

"Not really, anything that looks good. Just make sure they are all plain, I cannot stand bedazzled jeans." Sam complained as she tried on a t-shirt with a pair of dark blue short shorts, liking how the shorts made her legs look and the shirt was cool enough to wear out when the weather got hot.

There was a knock on the fitting room door and Sam opened it to see Nola with an armload of no less than  _ten_  pairs of jeans. Sam took them and started fitting them.

"Nola, there's one more thing that I need."

"Shoot."

"A swim suit. Brock said that he would teach me how to swim."

"You are not getting anything other than a two-piece."

Sam was amused, "other than two-pieces and one-piece what else is there?"

"You don't want to know. So any colour or style?"

"Surprise me."

Nola let out an ear piercing squeal as she ran off in search of bathing suits.

* * *

Sam was in the process of trying on her fifth bathing suit; a black two piece. It was the first one that she tried on and liked, the bottom piece was a bikini cut that actually covered her perky butt and the top had strings which tied around the neck and her back. She liked how it showed off her assets while at the same time maintaining her dignity.

Satisfied with it, she was about to change when she heard Brock's voice and then Nola's.

"Your wife? She's in fitting room 3, you may go back there if you want."

"Sam?"

"In here." She stepped out of the fitting still clad in the bathing suit to greet Brock.

"Are you having fu-" he stopped mid question and looked Sam up and down

"What?"

Brock stared at her for a few seconds, the hunger in his eyes clear the clear blue sky.

"Brock,"

"Hmmm?"

"Stop staring."

His eyes instantly snapped up to meet Sam's own and saw that she was blushing.

"I am sorry, I jus-" he scratched the back of his neck and laughed nervously, "shit my wife is hot."

Sam blushed even more at hearing those words, "and your wife is standing right here and can hear you. I am going to get changed, I will meet you by the cashier." 

A few minutes later, Sam emerged from the fitting room, wearing a simple yellow sundress that Nola had convinced her to wear out of the store and went to the cashier to ring up her purchases.

Brock's eyes again looked her up and down as she approached and he whistled appreciatively, "you look beautiful Sam."

"Thank you." She smiled and could feel her cheeks heating up again.

He came to stand behind her and she could feel the heat from his body, "ignore whatever the total is," he whispered in her ear.

Sam rolled her eyes heaven ward when she heard the final amount and handed over Brock's credit card; part of her feeling overwhelmed by the amount but the other part of her not caring because her  _rich_  husband told her to go crazy.

"Have a nice day and please do come again." Nola said as Sam and Brock left the store.

"I certainly will!" Sam called back.

Once they were outside, Brock opened the trunk of the SUV to put the  _twenty_  bags of newly purchased clothes in.

"I see you went a bit crazy yourself." Sam nodded to the bags that were already in the trunk and Brock grinned.

"Want to know a secret?"

"What?"

" _Four_  of those _five_  bags are for  _you_." 

Sam looked flabbergasted.

"Brock, no, you are spoiling me."

"You are my wife and you deserve to be spoiled so let me spoil you. Remember that I ship out in two weeks’ time, allow me to do this, please?"

"Fine." Sam relented. "Where to now?"

"A shoes store for you and then lunch."

The shoes store was just like the clothing store, with Sam leaving with  _twenty_  new pairs of shoes, majority of which were either sneakers, ballet flats, flip flops and sandals (a white pair that she was wearing with her sundress). She only bought one pair of wedges and heels each.

For lunch, Brock took Sam to a little outdoor bistro that had her mouth-watering just from the delicious fragrances wafting out of the kitchen. After ordering their food Sam and Brock spoke, telling each other about themselves and trying to get to know each other in the short amount of time they had left with each other.

"So you mean to tell me, you fell and slid down a flight of stairs on your ass and once you reached the bottom, instead of your mother rushing down to you asking if you were alright she was at the top of the stairs crying with laughter?" Brock was wheezing from laughing so hard but Sam was a great, animated story teller.

Sam took a sip of her lemonade and nodded, "yup, that was my mother for you. She would laugh you to scorn and then ask if you were ok."

"She sounds like an awesome lady."

"Yeah, she was. Hey, I remember one time she-" Sam instantly stopped speaking and was looking at something over Brock's shoulder.

"What is it?" He turned to look behind him, but only caught a glimpse of white man, looking to be in his fifties before he felt a sharp kick in his shin and turned to look at Sam who was trying her best not to look as if she was sliding down in her chair and out of sight.

"Who is that? Someone I should be concerned about?"

"That is the asshole professor who gave me a 'C' on a paper I busted my ass for.

"Ok...?"

Sam gave Brock a wry look, "I did  _three_ drafts of that paper. Had it looked over by the student tutoring services, only to hand in the final product and receive such a low mark." She eased up a little to glance over Brock's shoulder and sank back down. "I am not being paranoid when I say that man has it out for me. I have no idea what I did to him, I am the quietest person in class, but the moment our eyes made four, he has had it out for me. He even knew my name on the first day without me introducing myself and he has yet to learn the other students' names and it's the  _fifth_  week of classes!"

"And now he is coming over here." Brock informed her.

 _"What?!"_  She quietly shrieked. "How do you know?"

"I can see his reflection in the glass of the window and he is heading straight here."

"Fuck my life. Can we make a run for it?"

"We are not running Sam, I want my food. If he does or say anything to you I will just knock him out cold."

"You are not assaulting one of my university profe-"

"Miss. Wilson, is that you?" A crisp, cultured English voice asked.

Sam's smile was strained as she looked up at the devil incarnate.

"Professor Hart, what a surprise running into you here." 

"I know." The smile on his face was anything but warm and had Sam wondering he had bothered coming over in the first place. "I must say, I have ran into all my other students outside of campus, but I think this is the first time I am running into you."

"Yeah, I usually do not come to this side of town unless I have to."

"Well, I am assuming you have a very good reason to be in town today." Professor Hart tilted his head towards Brock who was watching the exchange with interest, when it became even more interesting.

"Is there something that you want Professor Hart?" Sam's eyes were cold and her tone flat, He had another thing coming if he thought she was going to introduce him to Brock. "If not could you please excuse us, we are on a date."

"I merely came over to say 'hi' Miss Wilson." 

"Why? In class all you do is ignore me, even when my hand is the first to go up to participate in a discussion."

Brock was now glaring at the man.

"Not to mention you are the only professor, no scratch that, the only educator who has taught me, who has given me anything less than an 'A' which by the way I have to make up for with another class considering the fact that you do not assign extra-credit assignments. So please, do as you do in class and ignore me."

"Miss Wilson-"

"Can we go Brock?" Sam turned pleading eyes on her husband.

"Yeah sure." He got up and pulled out her chair for her to get up, slipping an arm around her waist, they walked off, Professor Hart watching them leave.

"I will see you in class tomorrow Miss Wilson."

"Unfortunately." Sam replied.

* * *

Sam and Brock were stuck in the afternoon traffic of people leaving church to go home or for lunch. The car had been silent since they got in, Sam staring out the window, her face hidden from Brock who kept glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

"Do you want to talk about what just happened?"

"No, not really."

"Do you know why he seems to have a grudge against you and have you reported him?"

"I guess he's just like the other assholes, figuring that a scholarship student should not be at such a prestigious university and I have gone to the Dean about his behaviour towards me but he just blew me off, telling me that Professor Hart treats all his students like that."

Brock was getting angry again at the injustice Sam faced just because she was not well off, "that is complete bullshit and there are  _other_  scholarship students there right?"

"Yes, but none who were as bad off as me. In relation to the other scholarship students they were all relatively rich. They could afford new clothes, laptops, to room on campus whereas I repeated a lot of my clothes during the week, was well known by the staff in both the computer lab and the library due to the fact that I could not afford the recommended texts books or my own computer."

"People actually noticed what you wear?"

"When you go to such a prestigious university, once there is something different about you, people _will notice_."

"So that means they are going to notice your new wardrobe and the ring on your finger."

"Yeah, but I will continue to do what I have been doing since day one: ignore them all."

Brock smiled, "you are really strong."

Sam smiled back at him, "and you are really kind."

Just then Brock's phone rang and he pressed the 'hands free' feature on the side of the steering wheel.

"Hello?"

_"Brock do you want to tell me why Bucky is currently curled up on my couch crying while babbling and I quote 'I fucked up, she's never going to speak to me again and Brock wants to kick my ass."_

Brock sighed and rolled his eyes. 

Sam tapped him on his arm, mouthing 'who is that?' to him.

'Steve' he mouthed back.

"He came by my house this morning, I was not alone and he said some shit he should not have and to make matters worse the person he was saying these things about overheard him and she was not amused."

_"Her?"' Dear God Brock, please tell me it wasn't Rebecca."_

"Are you insane? As if I would do something that fucking stupid."

_"Then who is he talking about?"_

Brock ran a hand down his face, " my wife and tell Bucky to stop being such a drama queen."

The phone line went silent as Brock knew it would.

 _"Wife? What wife? What the fuck are you on about?"_  

Brock was about to answer when Bucky beat him to it.

_"Her name's Sam Wilson."_

Never before in his life had Brock wanted to throttle someone more than he did Bucky.

 _"Sam Wilson? As in Sam Wilson, the girl you had Tony-_ "

"She's sitting right beside me!" Brock blurted out.

"What is he talking about Brock? What did you have Tony do?" Sam's voice was low but demanding.

_"First you go off and get married without telling anyone-"_

"Bruce knew." Brock interrupted.

_"And you have not told Sam what you did."_

"What did you do Brock?" Sam asked again and he could feel her eyes trying to set him on fire.

"Thank you very much Steve and fyi, Bucky had the nerve to call her a gold-digger. I don't know where he gets off calling her that considering all three of his sister married very rich men and he himself married a well off woman."

Steve sighed,  _"I am very sorry, both of you, that Bucky is an idiot and has no tact or class. I will speak to him."_

"Yeah, and just a heads up, I will be seeing you sometime during the week to update my personnel record."

_"Yeah, ok, and Sam I look forward to meeting you."_

"Well it sounds as if you already know a lot about me."

_"About that, Brock you might want to have a chat with your new wife."_

"I know, good bye." Brock disconnected the call and kept his eyes on the road.

"So, are you going to tell me what the hell he was talking about? What did you have Tony do?"

Knowing it was time to pay the piper, Brock squared his shoulders back, hoping that he would not damage his less than a day old marriage.

"That night, after we left the diner and you got upset with me and ran off I called one of my friends who is very good at finding people and I asked him to find  _everything_  on you. Where you lived, went to school, down to your medical records."

"Oh my God." Sam could not believe what he was telling her. "Are you some kind of stalker? Did I just sign my death sentence?"

"What?! No! Sam, I- I just needed to know what I was getting myself into before I approached you with my proposal."

" _You._ " The disbelief was clear as day in Sam's voice, "you needed to know what you were getting yourself into? I still have no idea what  _I_  have gotten myself into considering what I just found out!"

"Oh, I am well aware that you are still wary of me."

"Oh fuck you Brock. You had your friend investigate me and then you show up, throw your money in my face under the guise of a contract marriage and you  _knew_  that I would not say 'no,' that I could not say 'no.' You  _knew_  just what to say to have me say 'yes.'"

Sam was beyond pissed that he looked into her background and then used that as a way to get her into a contract marriage.

"Sam, listen-"

"Just shut the fuck up Brock, I don't want to hear it."

The rest of the journey was made in a tensed silence. Once they arrived back at the house Sam exited the vehicle and walked around to the trunk to get her shopping bags. 

"Sam let me help you." 

"I got this; I have carried lot more with no one's help. I don't need it for a few shopping bags." 

"Can I at least get the door for you?"

"Nah, that's ok, I'll just teleport inside." Sam sarcastically answered, her eyes glaring daggers at Brock.

"A simple 'yes' would have sufficed." He said as he retrieved his purchases and made his way to where Sam was.

The gentle man that he is opened the door for her and ignored how she purposely hit him with her bags while entering the house.

"Sam, can we please talk?"

"No, I am going to go upstairs, put away my new clothes and take a nap. I have school tomorrow and I have things to do."

"Sam just-" he was cut off by the slamming of Sam's bedroom door.

 

 


	7. A New Day Has Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiss and make up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part was originally supposed to have been part of the previous chapter, but while editing I decided to make it a chapter by itself. So new chapter!
> 
> I hope that you are all enjoying this story!! :)
> 
> If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

The sun was just peaking over the horizon on Monday morning when Brock walked into the kitchen to see Sam sitting at the kitchen island, still clad in her sleepwear and eating cereal, looking more and more like she wanted to fall asleep in it.

"Good morning." He said, wondering if she was still angry with him or if she had cooled off. He received a grunt in reply. "I cannot tell if you are still mad at me or if you are just not a morning person."

Sam turned her head and gave him one of her nastiest glares as he poured his coffee and he smiled brightly at her.

"Your glares don't work on me sweetheart, I have told you this before."

She flipped him off, took up her bowl and tilted the rest of the milk down her throat and Brock could not help but trail his eyes down her slender flawless throat and had the sudden urge to lick a line up it.

"Sam, please, don't be angry with me. I ship out in two weeks and I do not want the few precious days we have to get to know each to be marred by my brazenness and your anger."

"Wow! Really?  _Really?!_ " Sam got up and stormed her way towards the sink to wash her cereal bowl, Brock making sure to move out of her way, his eyes inadvertently trailing down her lithe body, over her pert backside and down her toned smooth legs and felt something stir deep inside of him at the sight.

"You say ‘get to know each’ other but," he was snapped out of his wayward thoughts at the sound of her angry voice and carried his eyes back above the figurative belt to see the tension in her shoulders as she leaned on the counter, wanting nothing more than to reach out and rub them until she relaxed again. "I asked you how you had found me at my university and you said that it was your job to find people, only you did not just  _find_ me, but you  _investigated me._ "

She spun around to face him unaware that just a few seconds ago he was wondering if there was a chance of taking this marriage further.

"Tell me, do you have a file on me? A nice thick dossier folder with everything from my baby years to my life as is now? Did you see the report about my mom's rape? Did you see what that bastard did to her? How he violated her without a care in the world?"

That is when it clicked.

"Sam, I-I read what happened to her and I am sincerely sorry for violating yours and your mother's privacy. I am sorry that I got my friends involved as well." 

He took a step towards her only for her to side step him, putting the island in between them.

"I was not thinking about anyone other than myself and my selfishness has led to this." He motioned between them. "Just please, forgive me and give me another chance."

Sam was staring at him unsure and Brock slowly made his way around the island until he was standing in front of her, towering over her, but her eyes kept staring at his chest.

Brock placed a finger under her chin and gently raised her head so that green eyes met chocolate brown. "Please Sam," was the whispered plea.

Sam sucked in a breath and then let it out, "fine, I forgive your stupid ass."

Brock smiled and pulled her into a hug feeling her soft, supple body against his. She was tense for a few seconds, but then she relaxed and wrapped her arms around his waist.

They stood there for a few minutes, locked in an embrace with each other until Sam broke the quietness.

"Have you told Peter about us?"

"I wanted to, before I told anyone else, but he has been busy as hell and have not had the chance to tear himself away from the hospital. However, he said that he's working the morning shift on Saturday and will be free in the afternoon, so just let me know if you are free and we can meet up and tell him together."

"Yeah, I am free."

Brock felt Sam squeeze her arms around him tighter and nuzzle her face into his chest and it warmed him to his core, this type of touch no matter how innocent and nonsexual it was.

"You are so warm." She slurred.

"Hey," he looked down at her dark head, "are you falling asleep on me?"

"Hmmm."

"You  _really are not_  a morning person." When he felt her weight getting heavier he gave her a little jolt to wake up. "Why are you awake so early?"

"I have a stupid 8 o'clock class on Mondays, so I have to wake up extra early if I want to make it on time."

"Sam, you now live fifteen minutes from campus and until you get your car, I will drop you off and pick you back up, day or night, so you can sleep later."

Sam raised her head, her eyes barely open and Brock thought she looked beautiful half asleep, cuddled into his chest, standing in the middle of the kitchen as the first of the dawns rays of light started brightening the room.

"I know, but as you said, I am  _not_  a morning person so it takes some time for me to wake up and get a move on."

"Then I guess asking you to join me on my morning runs are out?"

"Damn right they are." Sam mumbled in his chest and she heard the rumbling sound inside of him when he laughed.

"Come on, stand up." He broke their embrace and stepped back so that Sam had no choice but to support her own weight. "Let's go get ready and I will drive as slow as possible so that you can sleep in the car."

"If I go back to sleep, I  _will not_  wake back up, not for love or money." Sam said around a yawn as she made her way upstairs from the kitchen with Brock trailing behind her, his eyes on her delectable ass.

"Well do it for your education."

She laughed at that.

* * *

Sam had just pulled her blue and white polka dot blouse over her head and down her torso, it was one of the new item of clothing she had bought the previous day when she heard Brock call her.

"Hey Sam!"

"Yeah!" she shouted back while putting in her three pairs of earrings in her ears. Three little knobs in the left ear, with four in the right, the fourth piercing being an upper helix piercing with a multi-coloured earring adorning the spot.

"Come here!"

Sam walked to Brock's semi-opened door and knocked.

"Come in."

"What were you bellowin-" Sam's words got caught in her mouth at the sight she was met with. Brock stood in front of his chest of drawers clad in only a pair of low slung dark blue jeans that hugged his ass and toned thighs just right. His back was to her so he was completely oblivious to what he was doing to Sam when she caught sight of his strong muscled back and the numerous tattoos decorating it.

Her throat was dry as her eyes wondered below the belt, smirking to herself, "baby got back." She whispered.

"What was that?" Brock turned around and Sam almost swallowed her tongue. The front of his jeans were undone, so Sam could see the 'V' of his hipbones, as well as his choice of underwear and colour.

Brock saw that she was staring and looked down, a wicked smile forming on his face.

"See something you like wifey?"

Sam's eyes snapped up towards his and she looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Hmmm?" 

"You're not looking too bad yourself Sam." Brock deliberately allowed his gaze to travel the length of Sam's body, taking in the loose fitting blue and white polka dot blouse she had on that still showed her well-proportioned bosom and the dark blue jeans she had on looked as if it were painted on.

"Want to go put on a shirt before you catch a cold Brock?" Sam finally got out as she felt his eyes strip her naked. No sex was a part of this contract, but Brock was making her feel things she had never felt before she knew that he was also affect from his dilated pupils to his pants looking a bit tighter in the crotch area.

"Yeah," he seemed distracted, "I should go do that."

Sam allowed her eyes to travel the length of his body when he turned around before snapping back up to his face when he spun around again.

"Before I forget  _again_  I have something for you." Still shirtless, Brock went to the small table by his bedroom window and retrieved three shopping bags. "Because yesterday got a bit out of hand I did not get a chance to give these to you." He said as he walked over to Sam, who had to work very hard to keep her gaze from trailing down his Greek god physique again and from leaning in to smell his body wash even more.

"Here." He held out the smallest bag to her first.

Sam took it from him and opened it, taking out a  _jewellery_  box and when she opened it she could not restrain the gasp that left her mouth; in the box were  _six_  pairs of little silver knobs, each with a different colour stone.

"I saw your piercings and figured that you like them and I got different colours so that you could coordinate them with your clothes." Brock explained.

"Thank you! I love them!" Sam took placed the box down on the bed and proceeded to swap out a pair of knobs in her ears for the pair of sapphire knobs Brock had just gifted her with. "What's in the other bags? She asked once she was finished with her task.

Brock merely gave her another bag that was slightly bigger than the previous bag and a bit weightier.

"That is a wedding gift."

"And what were the earrings?" Sam asked as she pulled out a rectangular box, only for her eyes to widen in surprise when she saw that he had gotten her the newest and most expensive smartphone on the market right now. "Oh, Brock."

"What?" Brock actually looked uncertain. "You don't like it?"

"No, I do," Sam held the phone to her chest, "it's just, I did not get you anything and you got me such  _nice_  stuff."

Brock waved her worries off, "don't worry about. For now, I have programmed in my number as well as Peter's, Bruce's, Tony's, Steve's and even Bucky's in case you ever need someone and you are unable to get a hold of me."

Sam was still staring at the phone in her hands, the casing was blue and she looked up at Brock a question on her face, "did I ever say what my favourite colour is?"

"No, but you since I met you, I have not really seen you in any other colour of clothing, majority of the clothes you bought yesterday is some shade of blue and the bedroom you picked is nothing but blue along with the bathroom. Not to mention you are dressed from head to toe in blue right now."

"Very observant."

"That I am."

"So what's in that bag?" Sam asked to take her mind off of the fact that Brock had been paying such close attention to her from the start that he deduced what her favourite colour is.

The last bag Brock gave her was much larger and heavier than the previous two combined.

"This you will have to wait until you return from school to play around with."

Sam placed the bag on the bed and took out the box. "Holy fucking shit!!!" She turned to Brock, a wide grin on her face, "you got me a laptop?!"

"I got you a laptop!"

"Thank you." Sam closed the distance between them and flung her arms out and around his neck, pulling him in for a tight hug which he returned. "Thank you so much!" She said again, on tip toes so that she could hug him with some semblance of ease.

"You are most welcome." Brock whispered in her hair.

The two of them stood there, locked in another tight embrace, Brock shirtless and even though Sam was fully clothed, the thin fabric of her blouse did not help to keep her from feeling the heat of Brock's strong and solid body and she could feel her nipples start to harden from the feeling of being wrapped up in the arms of such a strong man.

Brock was fully aware of Sam's body pressed against his and he could feel himself starting to react and the fact that his jeans were still undone was not going to help.

"Ok, let me finish getting dressed and then we can leave."

"Ok." Sam removed her arms from around his neck and grabbed her stuff, "oh, I thought you said that four of the five bags are mine, I only got three."

"Yeah, I lied, two are for me."

Sam rolled her eyes and left to go back to her room.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later found Sam and Brock at her university, sitting in his car in the parking lot, watching barely awake students walking by with caffeinated beverages clutched in their hands.

"Are all your classes  _this_  early?"

"No, just a few; I usually spent the extra time I had before morning classes either in the library or the computer lab."

"Do you like all your classes?"

"Some, I like this class, Professor Laufeyson is really laid back and he makes  _'English Language Past and Present'_  really interesting and he treats everyone the same way, with respect."

"Hmm, you said 'Laufeysonl as in Loki Laufeyson, tall, pale, black neck length hair, blue eyes, _very_ charming and always smiling?"

Sam looked at Brock, "yeah, do you know him?"

"He is Thor's brother."

"Hmm, small world." She checked her watch and saw that it was quarter to eight. "I have to go now. I will meet you back here at 12:30 P.M."

"I will be waiting for you." 

Sam turned to leave, only to turn back and look at Brock, a question on her tongue.

"What is it?"

"Can I give you a kiss?"

Brock was floored, of all the questions he thought Sam would ask that was not even a contender. Instead of replying, he leaned over the gear stick and gently cupped the back of her neck slowly pulling her to him until they were close enough to breathe each other's air. He could feel her trembling and almost pulled back, but she had already closed the inch that was left between them and Brock felt soft, warm and sweet lips (courtesy of her cherry flavoured chap-stick) on his.

The kiss was chaste and over after a few short seconds but to Brock it was one of the most intimate, earth moving kiss he had ever shared with someone.

Sam eased back a little and opened her eyes, her hands had somehow ended up curled in the fabric of Brock's shirt and her eyes found his. His eyes were dilated and she took pride in knowing that she had caused that. Without a second thought she leaned back in and re-attached her lips to his.

Brock had one hand on her neck and the other on her hip massaging it, he suddenly felt something warm and wet tentatively lick the seam of his lips and realised that Sam was asking for permission to deepen the kiss. He knew that she was nervous from the way she was still trembling and he found it endearing.

He parted his lips and Sam's tongue made its way into his mouth, taking her time to explore his mouth, Sam's hands started rubbing up and down his chest, feeling the strong well developed muscles and he groaned, meeting her tongue with his and sucking it making her moan in response and it sent blood rushing to his hardening cock.

From the kiss, he could tell that she did not have a lot of experience, if any, with kissing and the knowledge that she had so much innocence to give made him even hotter and harder in his pants. His hold on her tightened, one hand slipping under the fabric of her blouse to feel smooth warm skin and the wanted nothing more than to run his tongue along it, to have her spread out before him, whether on a bed, the dining table back home, the hardwood floor of the living room in front of the fireplace, by the indoor pool under the skylight with the moonlight shining down on her mocha coloured skin or even on the hood of his car, he needed to  _have_  her. 

He remembered though that 'sex' was not a part of their deal, that he had told her that she was not going to be a glorified prostitute. That however, did not stop him from inching his hand higher up under her blouse until he felt the soft lace of her bra and the underside of her breast. 

Sam broke the kiss, her breathing heavy and Brock took the opportunity to kiss down her neck and Sam moaned, tilting her head to the side to grant him more access. The grip she had on his hair tightened when she felt him cup her breast and squeezed it.

"Whoa," Sam separated herself from Brock who reluctantly let her go. She withdrew so much that her back was pressed against the car door and her eyes looked everywhere but Brock as she tried to regulate her breathing.

"That was supposed to be  _chaste_  'see you later' kind of kiss, sorry that I was almost humping you."

Brock looked at her and chuckled, running a hand through his hair, "does it look like I am complaining?"

Sam's eyes travelled from Brock's bright green dilated eyes, to his kiss swollen lips, to his heaving chest, down to where his jeans were straining against his hardened cock and she felt her face warm from knowing that she was the reason he was in such a state and was sure that she looked no better. After a quick glance in the mirror of her sun-visor she deemed herself decent enough to go to class.

"I will see you later."  Sam got her stuff and got out of the car.

"If that is what you leave me with, I await anxiously how you will greet me." Brock grinned rakishly at her.

"Down boy." She said and closed the door, walking off, turning back once to wave good bye, although she could not see him through the heavily tinted windscreen she knew he was watching her from the flashing of his headlights. Sam was on cloud nine that she did not even notice that she was ten minutes late to her class, something that had  _never_  happened before.


	8. The Barbecue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam meets the rest of Brock's friends.
> 
> Bucky apologises.
> 
> Sam hears stories about Brock which he rather she never heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that I included everyone. LOL!!!
> 
> I hope that you are all enjoying this story!! :)
> 
> If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

Brock was currently on his way out of the house to pick up Sam when his phone rang.

_"Why do I have to hear that you got married from Bucky and Steve?"_

He almost dropped his phone in shock, not at the voice but what she said.

"Fucking hell Natasha, they told you?" He was going to kill Steve, commanding officer or not and Bucky right alongside him.

_"Not really, Peggy, Pepper and I walked into their house and heard him tearing Bucky a new one. When we asked what the hell was going on Bucky kind of blurted out what you had done and Steve confirmed it."_

Brock ran a hand down his face, "and let me guess the whole world and his fucking wife knows now?"

_"Yeah, Tony was pissed that Bruce knew and he didn't but he got over that the instant it dawned on him that he could throw you a bachelor party."_

"Oh, hell no, not after Steve's bachelor party."

Natasha laughed,  _"don't worry, we came to a compromise and decided to have a wedding barbecue instead. That way your wife can meet us and we her."_

Brock thought about it, it made sense, "as long as Sam is comfortable with meeting so many of you at once and when were you thinking?"

_"This Saturday."_

"Ok, Peter has to come as well. I haven't told him that I am married yet."

_"Well that should be interesting. Have him bring Gwen and Wade as well."_

"Will do; I have to go now."

_"See you Saturday."_

"Yeah." Brock ended the call, wondering how Sam was going to take the news.

* * *

Sam herself had had an interesting day and was happy to see Brock's car pull up in the parking lot where she was waiting.

"Busy day?" Brock asked when Sam dropped herself in the passenger seat, leaned her head back against the head rest and closed her eyes.

"It was a task just filling out a few simple forms to update my student personnel file."

"It could not have been  _that_ bad." Brock reversed out of the parking space with ease as if he and the car were one being and exited the campus.

Sam sighed the sigh of a tired soul, "it was  _that_  bad. The lady at the front desk I went to created a goddamn fuss in the office when she found out why I needed to update my file and from there it was like a fucking domino effect. Everyone wanted to see the ring, wanted to know where and how I met my lucky guy, when and where was the wedding, how the  _honeymoon_  was. I had to repeat myself  _three_  times before they got the hint to give me what I wanted to mind their own business."

"Oh Sam, I am sure that they were just really excited, I do not think they get a lot of students coming in saying they got married recently."

"It was just a lot of attention aimed at  _me_  and any time there is a lot of attention on me it means bad news." Sam inhaled deeply and released it, "it's just a defense mechanism I have developed over the years."

Brock glanced at her out of the corner of his eye,” then you may not like what I have to tell you next."

"Ugh, just rip off the band aid."

"The rest of my friends found out about us thanks to Bucky and Steve and now they are throwing us a 'wedding barbecue.'"

"You have got to be shitting me. How?"

"Natasha and both Steve and Bucky's wives walked in on Steve tearing Bucky a new one and from there the metaphorical cat hauled ass out of the bag.

"So, the whole world, his wife and their dead ancestors knows."

"Except for Peter." Brock grinned and Sam wanted to smack him but he was driving so she restrained herself. "It's a miracle that he has not found out yet."

"So, when is this barbecue?"

"Saturday."

Sam turned in her seat to look at Brock, "you mean this Saturday?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I assume you already said yes to going."

"I did, but only if you are ok with it. I know it is asking a lot of you, meeting so many of my friends in one go, but I figured since the cat's already ready out of the bag to just get it over with."

"This is going to be one interesting barbecue."

"Just so you know Bucky is going to be there as well."

"I figured."

"Just do me a favour."

"What?"

"Just try not to throw him off the roof."

Sam looked at her husband in bewilderment,  _"what?"_

* * *

The rest of the week could not have gone by fast enough for Sam. The week had been quite a busy one in terms of her school and home life, she had lost count of the number of documents she had to fill out to become a dependent of Brock. She had also met Mrs. Miller, Brock's housekeeper, who took to Sam like a bee to honey, as did the cleaning crew. Mrs. Miller was so happy that Brock had found someone that could provide the kind of company that he needed and much to his chagrin, she told Sam some of his embarrassing childhood stories. 

It was now Friday and Sam was in the lecture theatre for her final and most dreaded class for the day, Professor Hart's class. It was ten minutes before class began and students were still walking into the lecture hall. Sam was in her regular seat, sixth seat from the front at the very end so that she could leave without creating a disturbance if the situation called for it. 

She was messaging Brock about her class and professor from hell when she heard a soft accented voice beside her.

"Hi, do you mind if I sit beside you?" The voice belonged to a beautiful young woman who was dressed stylishly in all black with her dark hair in a high pony tail. She had a kind smile on her face.

"Sure." Sam moved her legs so that the young woman could walk pass her and into the row of seats.

She sat down in the seat right beside Sam and began digging around in her bag while Sam went back to messaging Brock, who was trying to cheer her up.

"Is that a  _Stark phone_?" The young woman beside her gasped.

Sam looked at her, then at the phone and back at her, "yeah." She was still uneasy by the attention she was receiving due to her now sporting expensive material items. It was unnerving to say the least and it got even worse when she drove onto campus in her new Jaguar SUV that came in a day early. People were going out of their way to talk to her now and Sam being Sam ignored them.

"You are so lucky." The young woman said, her lips and eyes smiling, "I heard that only a hand few of those were created. I'm Wanda Maximoff by the way."

"Sam Wilson-Rumlow and it was a wedding gift from my husband."

 _"Husband?"_  A new voice said and both girls spun around to see the guy that almost came between her and Brock the time he showed up at her university. "You mean that guy who accosted you here?"

Sam sighed, "he did not accost me."

"Sure, looked like it. And when did he become your husband? You were not wearing a ring when I saw you with him." The guy looked pointedly at the ring Sam was  _now_  wearing.

"Mind your own business." Sam said bluntly and turned back around, eyeing her watch to see that there were still three minutes before class begun.

Wanda looked between the two of them before leaning into Sam's space to whisper, "who is he?"

Sam did not even bother to lower her voice before answering, "I have no idea. I have never even seen him before in this class."

"I have been in this class since the first week, I sit in the extreme back row; maybe that is one of the reasons you have never seen me the other being you ignore everything and everyone around you and my name is Riley O'Brady-Callaghan." The young man said.

"Well, since you have been here since the first week I suggest your ass finds a seat before Professor Hart chews you up and spits you out." Sam advised without looking behind her.

"Don't mind if I do." Riley proceeded to sit in the seat in the row directly in front of Sam. He turned to look at her, "I am sure that you will see me if I sit here." He smiled cheekily before turning back around in his seat.

"I think he likes you." Wanda whispered to her.

"Well he's shit out of luck." Sam whispered back, " I am spoken for."

 Professor Hart called the class to order.

Sometime during the first hour of the class, Wanda leaned over and whispered to Sam, "is it just me or does Professor Hart keep looking over here? At you and Riley specifically?"

"Nope." Sam kept her eyes forward on the projector screen, "he has some sort of problem with me."

Wanda did not get a chance to ask her what she meant before Professor Hart gave the class the most dreadful news any teacher could give his class.

"You are all aware that the end of semester exam for this course is a multiple-choice exam."

There was a low cheer and Professor Hart glanced around the lecture theatre and Sam swore she saw the devil glinting in his hazel eyes.

"Well that was before I took over the teaching of this course."

The happy chatter started dying down.

"Instead of a multiple-choice exam, I have decided to challenge you all. Your end of semester assignment will be a group project."

The protest was loud and Professor Hart smirked as he watched the students get riled up.

"Now, if I may continue, I know some of you are getting bent out of shape over this announcement, so I have decided to go a bit easy on you. You will all work in groups of four."

"Fucking hell." Sam swore. "A fucking  _group_  assignment. This man is the devil."

Professor Hart spoke over the disgruntled students, "you may all choose your group members, I have the topics in a jar up here for you to choose from, so form your groups, select one person as group leader and he or she will come up, randomly select a topic and if you check the student online educator, you will see an outline of what I want in this project. You have five weeks to complete this project and a friendly reminder that this is worth 75% of your final grade. That is all."

Taking that as a dismissal of the class, students began going around the room selecting their friends to be in groups with. Sam sighed, she did not talk to anyone in the entire university, how the hell was she to form a group with these people.

"Hey, want to, be in a group with me?"

Sam turned to look at Wanda.

"Huh?" She asked eloquently.

"Well I am new here and do not know anyone else apart from you, so if we are to be in groups of four I would rather at least know one person beforehand."

Sam thought about it and it was logical.

"Sure, we just need two more persons."

"One actually." Riley turned around to look at them, or to be more precise, to look at Sam. 

Sam looked around the room, "do you talk to anyone else in this class?"

Riley made a face, "no, not really."

"I think we may be getting a fourth person." Wanda said, staring at someone behind her, looking like she wanted to eat them whole.

Sam turned to see who she was looking at and raised an eyebrow when she saw who the person. She had seen him around campus and he was in a few of her classes in the first semester. The young man always had on a purple shirt, his hair looking like he did not comb it and his expression was either that of a pissed off serial killer or looking like he could not keep his eyes open in class, yet he came in second behind Sam in their year after first semester exams. 

"Hey," the young man greeted them although he only had eyes for Wanda, "I see that you need a fourth person." 

"And the spot is yours if you want it."

Sam could have sworn Wanda's voice sounded husky when she answered their newcomer.

The young man's lips curled into a smile that promised sweet and sinful pleasure as he responded, "oh, I want it alright."

Sam looked between her two classmates, and rolled her eyes.

"Ok, before you two start making plans for the rest of your lives together," Sam interjected, "I am Sam, this is Wanda and Riley."

"Clint Barton." The young man introduced himself. "I don't believe I have seen you around here before Wanda."

"I just transferred here."

"Well, you should allow me to show you around."

"Oi, before you both start bumping uglies, can we all exchange contact info and be on our ways? I have another class to get to." Riley said and the two soon to be lovers blushed.

Once everyone had each other's numbers and a project topic to work on Clint and Wanda all but ran out of the lecture theatre leaving Sam and Riley.

"Well she's sure making friends fast on her first day." Riley commented, watching them disappear behind the door.

"Yeah, good for her." Sam said and began walking down the stairs towards the exit.

"Hey Sam, wait up." Riley ran to catch up with her.

"Time waits for no man." She replied and was out the door.

"Damn you walk fast for a shorty." he said when he caught up with her. "So where are you going now?"

"Home."

"Ok and what are you going to do when you get home?"

"None of your- why the hell are you talking to me?" Sam cut herself off and stopped walking, levelling Riley with a look that screamed  _'fuck off!'_

Riley looked taken aback at her question, "I was just making conversation, we are friends-"

"Whoa!! No, no. no, let me stop you right there." Sam held up her hand, " _we_ ," she motioned between the two of them, " _are not friends_. We are only group members for this fucking soul sucking project. Now my husband is waiting for me and you have another class to get to. As soon as I have gathered enough information with evidence to back up said information I will send it to the group, so you can expect it by Sunday." 

 _"Sunday."_  Riley said with disbelief.

"Yes, Sunday. Good bye." Sam walked off, down the stairs of the building where she had class, across the walk way that led to the parking lot, ignoring the looks she got from fellow schoolmates, some that screamed jealousy at her new-found wealth and a few that if Brock saw how they were looking at her he would beat the shit out of them. 

* * *

Saturday afternoon found Sam and Brock driving to Tony's and Natasha's for the barbecue being held in their honour.

Sam was wearing a simple pair of dark blue jeans shorts with a blue floral spaghetti straps blouse, her hair was caught up in a high bun, she was sporting her wedding ring and her usual six pairs of earrings.

"You have nothing to be nervous about." Brock as said when they were half way to their destination.

"I am not nervous." Sam answered and it was the truth. "Either they accept me or they don't. Doesn't really matter to me as long as you continue treating me right."

Brock glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Taking one hand off the steering wheel, he took hold of her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. 

"As long as you remain faithful to me while we are married, I will always treat you right."

"I will." Sam squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.

Their hands remained linked until Brock turned down a street and continued driving towards  _Stark Tower_.

"Are you shitting kidding me right now?" Sam stared in awe at the building that they were approaching. "You do realise where we are heading?"

Brock grinned, "I am the one who is driving so I do hope so."

"You never said that the barbecue was being held at S _tark Tower._ Hell, you never said where the barbecue was being held." That is when something in Sam's brain clicked. "You said that your friend Tony did a background check on me, you meant Tony as in  _The Tony Stark_."

"Let me just say this from now, the man might try to adopt you." Brock warned as he drove into the underground parking garage. "Oh, and I am going to have fun rubbing it in his face that you are in the Social Sciences field." 

Brock got out of the car, walking around to Sam's door to open it for her. They held hands as they walked to the elevator and continued up the roof of the building.

"So, this is what you meant when you told me try not to throw Bucky off the roof." Sam said once the elevator doors opened to reveal the wide-open roof, with shields strategically put up to buffer the wind and to shade them from the sun.

"Hey! Rummy! Glad to see you could make it." Tony greeted, a wide welcoming smile on his face as he walked over to them.

"Want to ease up on the grip there darling?" Brock asked and only then did Sam realise how tightly she was squeezing his hand.

"Sorry, just really excited."

"Hey Tony." Brock released Sam's hand, wrapping his arm around her waist to bring her forward a bit to introduce her to his friend. "Sam, this is Tony. Tony, I would like you to meet my wife, Sam."

"It's nice to meet you." Sam held out her hand to Tony who grabbed it and gave her a firm handshake.

"Like wise," Tony said his smile warm even while he gave Brock the side-eye, “since I had to hear through the grapevine that Brock tricked you into marrying him."

"Tricked? There was no trickery here, I asked, she said 'yes' and then we rode off into the sunset."

"Huh uh, I'm sure that's how it went. Come on Sam." Tony looped his arm around her shoulder and walked away from Brock, "let me introduce you to the rest of the gang since your husband has no manners."

Brock trailed behind them, "I have no idea what Natasha saw in your crazy ass to make her marry you."

"Just that, my  _ass_." Tony slapped his ass and winked at Sam who shook her head in amusement. "Hey everyone the newlyweds are here!" He shouted when they rounded the corner to see a huge gazebo with other persons sitting under it talking, well at least they were until Tony yelled out their arrival.

Sam recognised a few faces such as Doctors Parker and Wilson from the emergency room, Bruce and of course Bucky, how could she ever forget him.

Dr. Parker got up and walked towards them, "dude! How the hell do you get married and not tell me?!"

Sam was a bit shocked and surprised by the hug he engulfed her in while continuing to speak to his brother over her head.

"You get married and don't inform me that I now have a little sister-in-law?" He pulled back a little to look at Sam, oblivious to the fact that he was cutting off her breathing, "nice to meet you  _properly_  by the way."

"You are cutting off her breathing Pumpkin Eater." Brock dryly commented as he walked pass them. "Allow her to breathe."

"Come on." Peter released his hold on Sam. 

Sam stood beside Brock as he introduced her to his crowd of friends, "everyone this is Sam. Sam this is everyone."

"Really?" A tall blond man who was the epitome of the boy next door asked, "is that how you introduce your wife to your friends?"

Brock shrugged unrepentant, "there are too many of you to introduce in one go."

"You have no manners." The same blond man commented as he walked up to Sam. "Hi, I am Steve Rogers, this man's friend and commanding officer. If you like I can take you around to everyone and introduce you properly."

"Sure." Sam took his proffered arm.

"Oi Rogers, commanding officer or not, I will beat your ass if you make a move on my wife." Brock threatened.

"Please, you could not even beat Natasha's ass when she pushed you into the pool last year." A female brunette with a British accent spoke up.

"And that lovely lady is my wife, Peggy." Steve said as he ushered Sam around the gazebo.

Peggy saluted her with her drink "cheers darling." 

Sam smiled and nodded at her.

"You already know Peter, Wade and Bruce."

"Good to see you actually standing up and looking like a human being." Wade teased.

"I actually feel like a human being." Sam said truthfully and Wade nodded, going back to a conversation he was having with Bruce.

"And I am Gwen Stacey." A beautiful blonde with red painted lips stood up and held out her hand for Sam to take.

Sam shook hands with her, "Sam Wilson-Rumlow, nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Gwen smiled warmly. "It is good to finally have a sane female in the group."

"What was that?!" A pregnant red head shouted. "I am perfectly sane!"

"You married Barnes! Nuff said!" Tony shouted back.

"Hey Steve," Brock called out, "where are Thor, Loki and Rhodey?"

"Rhodes was running late so he called and said that he would grab the two brothers on their way here." Tony supplied. "They would not miss meeting your new bride."

Steve steered Sam over to the two red-headed females; the pregnant one who claimed to be sane and the other who was watching Sam as she approached. Sam felt as if she was trying to see her most private thoughts and Sam gave as good as she got, looking the woman up and down, letting her eyes speak for saying  _'I am not taking any shit you might try to dish out.'_  Her message must have been sent and received because the woman gave her a wicked smirk.

"And these lovely ladies here are part of the unholy trio." Steve said.

"Don't let your wife hear you say that. Hi, I am Pepper, Bucky's wife." The pregnant woman introduced herself. "And I just want to apologise for how stupid he is and the stupid shit that comes out of his mouth at times. I promise he actually has some sense."

Sam shook her hand, "that's ok, I am mostly over it by now and I am Sam, Brock's wife."

"And I am Natasha." The other red head said and pushed Steve out of the way so that she was in Sam's face.

"Tasha, you might want to back up a bit." Steve said looking between the two women.

"Nah, it's all good." Sam said, staring Natasha down. "If she has any clue of where I am from, she should know I am not and will  _never_  be intimidated be her."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, "hey Tony!"

"Yes dear?"

Her eyes still on Sam's, "I like her, can we keep her?!"

"Yes, we can! I always wanted a daughter!"

"Who always wanted a daughter?" A new voice asked and Sam turned to see three newcomers; a tall black man who walked up to Tony and gave him a hug, a tall, blond man who looked like belonged on Mount Olympus with his shoulder length golden hair and piercing blue eyes. The last man she recognized as one of the Professors, Loki Laufeyson.

"Tony and I are planning on adopting Brock's new wife."

"Wife? When the hell did Brock get married?" The look on the newcomer's face was one of utter confusion.

"So, you managed to actually miss one person Rogers? I am surprised." Brock came to stand beside Sam, the fabric of his shirt brushing against her bare arms.

"Rhodey, Brock got married and Bucky has already made an enemy of her." Steve said dryly.

"Ah yes! The new bride of our family, where is she?!" The big blond guy asked as his eyes scanned the crowd and landed on Sam's face. He was in front of her in  _four_  long strides taking her hands in his and Sam had to almost tilt her head all the way back to look up at him. 

"Mrs. Rumlow, it is so nice to meet you. Please, allow me to introduce myself, I am Thor Odison. Welcome to our small but lively family." His smile was wide and friendly and he really did remind Sam of a hyperactive Labrador. 

"Thank you and it's Sam."

"Hold on." Rhodey said as he made his way over to her, "I need to meet the person who was married Brock and his crazy ass."

"Crazy?" Sam looked up at Brock who was deliberately not looking at her. "I thought you were actually sedate."

Rhodey laughed at that when he was finally in front of her. " I am James Rhodes, but everyone calls me Rhodey and Rumlow sedate? He jumped off a moving vehicle once, into the back of an open truck."

Sam was stunned, "well if it was for the good of the mission, then I guess it could not have been helped."

"He was trying to catch the ice cream man." Rhodey deadpanned and Sam stared at her husband in shock.

"You told me that Tony was the crazy one in the group."

"Hey! At least I own up to my crazy." Tony said from the grill. "And food will be ready in 1 minute, sit y'all asses down."

"Let's go grab a seat." Brock placed his hand on her lower back and Sam tried to ignore how much she liked his hand there and the possessiveness it showed.

They sat down and Sam looked up to see Bucky looking at her.

"Hi." He greeted.

"Hey." Sam said back.

"How have you been?"

"Good; school is trying to kill me, but other than that I am good." She answered, seeing that Bucky was trying to make amends for their disastrous first meeting.

"You say that and yet you are coming first in all your classes." Loki said as he sat down beside Bucky in front of her. "Nice to see you outside of the classroom and to hear you speak."

 "I speak." Sam defended, she just spoke when called on in class, had something to contribute or when spoken to, other than that she kept to herself.

Loki gave her a flat look. "During roll call, I have to lift my head up and look for you just to make sure that you are in fact in class with how quiet you are."

"I am  _not that_  quiet."

"Oh, I know. Your facial expressions say all that you don't say." 

Brock and the others laughed at that.

"That is so true." Brock commented, "I received a few death and fuck off glares back in the day."

"Back in the day? Brock, I was just trying to murder you with my eyes just  _three_  weeks ago."

Brock wrapped his arm around her shoulder and drew her closer to him. Sam allowed him to do so and felt a warmth in her chest from being pressed side to side like this.

"And look at how you look at me now."

"How?"

"You look at him like how I look at donuts." Pepper said as Bucky got up to pull out her chair.

Sam busted out laughing. "You mean like I want to  _eat_ him?"

"Yes, but in the biblical sense."

Brock choked on his beer as Sam blushed  _hard_.

"Ok, enough corrupting my wife Pepper." 

"She married you Brock, that's more than enough corruption!" Steve shouted from another table.

"Great set of friends you have here." Sam nudged him and grinned.

"I swear, they are usually more well behaved than this."

Sam looked around at the new people she had met and shook her head, "I highly doubt that."

"Yeah, and you want to know something?" Tony leaned down beside Sam and pointed at Natasha, "she is the worst out of  _all_  of us."

"Says the person who set his wife's hair on fire." Peggy called Tony out.

"What?" Sam looked at Tony, her eyes wide.

"I merely singed the end of her hair."

"Really Tony?" Everyone turned to look at Natasha who was staring at her husband with a blank look from the table closest to the grill. "The fire alarm went off and Steve had to use a fire extinguisher on me."

Tony shrugged nonplussed, "technicalities."

"Tech-" Sam looked at the people before her and then at her husband who seemed rather sane compared to them, other than the fact he had asked her to join him in a contract marriage after just meeting her three times before. "How did you even manage to set her hair on fire?"

"Sex act gone wrong." Natasha said and Sam would have spat out her drink had she been drinking.

"Ok." Sam decided in order to keep her sanity around these crazy but seemingly lovely people, she would not ask any further on that subject matter to the general public.

Brock felt his phone buzz in his pocket and took it out to look at the message he received.

**_Sam Wilson-Rumlow (12:36 P.M.): "What kind of sex act involves fire, a fire extinguisher and 2 1/2 married persons?"_ **

Brock turned to look at Sam who was the epitome of innocence while conversing with Loki. He sent her back a message.

**_Brock Rumlow (12:37 P.M.): "The kind that happens in the common room of the Tower where anyone can walk in at any time. Good thing it was Steve and not me. Rumour has it, Tony has a tramp stamp of Tweety Bird."_ **

Brock watched Sam read the message and then promptly choked on her drink.

"Are you alright sweetheart?" he asked and he gently patted her back. The look Sam gave him could have melted steel and he just smile cheekily back at her.

Sam rolled her eyes and went back to eating her food when Bucky called out to her.

"So, Sam, did Brock tell you about the time he had to dress in a belly dancer's outfit while we were in Dubai?"

Sam choked on her food and looked at Brock, "no, he didn't."

"We did not get that far." Brock said between gritted teeth.

"I'd certainly like to hear that story."

"No." Brock dragged out the vowel.

"Tell it!" Sam was grinning like a mad person, enjoying the blush that was rising on her husband's cheeks.

"Fine," he looked at a grinning Bucky, "you can tell her about the belly dancer outfit, if you tell her about the time you and Steve had to dress in drag to escape hostiles."

"That's fine." Steve piped up from where he was stuffing his face with fries. "I am not ashamed, I look good in drag."

There was a low murmur of agreement with his statement.

"Bucky, tell both stories." Sam encouraged and so he did and by the end of those stories, as well as one about Tony having to be picked up by Rhodey one morning in the middle of nowhere Arkansas in nothing but his boxers, Sam was howling with laughter that soon dissolved into hiccups.

"Serves you right." Brock said as he handed her a glass of water to drink while he rubbed her back, trying to get her to calm down. 

she smiled and laid her head on his shoulder, "they were funny though."

"I am glad you're having fun."

"Your friends are hilarious and I look forward to hearing even more stories about you."

"I am now thinking it was a terrible idea introducing you to them. I can just imagine all the ammunition you are going to have."

"Don't worry, I will be gentle."

Brock knew Sam made an innocent joke, but something in the back of his mind reared its head and he could not help but think about the kiss they had shared in his car when he had dropped her off at school.

"Hey Brock." 

"Hmm?" Brock looked down at Sam, whose head was still on his shoulder and she was looking up at him through her eye lashes and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her.

"Can you show me where the bathroom is?"

Brock was about to answer her when another voice spoke up.

"I can take her."

Both Sam and Brock turned their heads to see Bucky standing by them.

"You need a bathroom? I can take you to the closest one."

Sam shrugged and got up, handing her glass of water to Brock and motioned for Bucky to lead the way. They left the roof and went inside the building, taking the elevator a few floors down. There was a silence between them, as Sam stared at the closed elevator doors while Bucky fidgeted beside her.

"I told Tony that he needs a bathroom on the roof but he won't take me up on it." Bucky said.

"It makes sense but at the same time it seems a bit weird." Sam answered and saw out the corner of her eye the relieved look on Bucky's face.

"Hey, I just to let you know that I am really sorry for what I said when we first met. I was completely out of line."

"Yeah, you definitely were."

"Can we start over?" Bucky asked nervously and Sam smiled.

She turned to him and held out her hand, "hi, I am Sam Wilson-Rumlow."

"Nice to meet you Sam, I am Bucky Barnes and just so you know Brock's a great guy and you will love being with him."

The elevator then arrived at their destination and Bucky showed Sam to the bathroom.

"Do you remember the way back or do you want me to wait on you?"

"You can go on back, I have a great memory."

Bucky went back up to the roof and Sam was left to do her business.

Upon exiting the bathroom Sam came face to face with Natasha and she knew from when they met on the roof that the red head was going to confront her at some point.

Folding her arms across her chest, Sam leaned back against the wall and gave Natasha a bored looked.

"I know you have something to say so say it."

She received a dangerous smirk in response. "I really do like you Sam. You're rather sharp and fearless."

Sam looked her up and down. "Why should I fear  _you_?"

There was a dangerous gleam in Natasha’s eyes as she looked Sam up and down. Predator eyes Sam would describe them as should she ever be asked to.

"Back when I was in the Special Forces, my code name was ' _Black Widow’ and_ let's just say I earned that name by making people fear me."

"I was bitten by a Black Widow when I was thirteen and I survived. I think I can handle a female the same height as me."

Natasha's smile grew dangerous and she took a step towards Sam.

Sam stood up straight and walked towards her, leaving only a small amount of space between them.

"I am sure you're a nice person,  _but_ ," Natasha's face said all she wanted to before she even spoke, " _if_  you ever do anything to hurt Brock, I will make sure you regret it."

"Ok, my turn," the smile on Sam's face was saccharine but Natasha could see the devil in it, "I can hazard a guess as to what happened with Brock and his ex that makes you all so protective of him and why you are all in my face every other minute making not so subtle threats not to hurt him. Do I like my new wealth? Yes, very much.  Just because I married Brock for his money does not mean that I am going to cheat on him.  _Our_  contract marriage is just that,  _ours,_ I understand that he is your friend, but he is my husband and I intend to honour the vow I made to him." 

Sam turned to walk away but turned back to Natasha. "Oh, and Natasha, you may have fought in hell, but I was  _born and raised in it_ , so know that I won't take kindly to you getting in my face again."

Natasha smiled, "Sam, you and I are going to be great friends."

Sam raised an eyebrow, "is this how you make friends?"

"Yes, now come on. There are going to be fireworks."

"Is Steve on standby with a fire extinguisher?"


	9. I'll Be Seeing You.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Come back home to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another new chapter!!!
> 
> I hope that you are all enjoying this story!! :)
> 
> If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

The week before Brock was scheduled to leave for a six-month tour had gone by in the blink of an eye and Sam woke up in the middle of the night, two nights before he was to leave her, thirsty and got out of bed, she made her way to the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water when something caught her eyes and she almost screamed.

The little light in the refrigerator offered little in the way of lighting the kitchen, so she barely saw Brock when she closed the fridge door.

"Brock? What are you doing sitting in the dark?"

"Drinking."

Sam cautiously walked over to where he sat at the kitchen island and stood beside him.

"Are you alright?" She asked quietly. There was something about the atmosphere that made her keep her voice soft, as if the loudest sound would break something fragile; Sam just had no idea what that fragile thing was.

"Yeah, I'm. You should go back to bed." He did not glance at his wife and something about that did not sit well with Sam. His eyes always met hers, even if it was just a quick glance.

"Brock," she tried again, putting her hand on his bare arm and felt how tense he was. "Tell me what's wrong. Clearly something is if you are sitting in the dark in the middle of the night drinking whiskey."

Brock ignored her and reached for his drink again but Sam beat him to it. She grabbed the glass and threw the rest of the drink down her throat, the burn making her eyes water and she slammed the glass back down on the island.

"Drink's done; tell me what the hell is up." She demanded and Brock spun his entire body around to face her.

He placed her hands on her hips and pulled her in between his legs, his fingers tracing idle circles on the bare skin that he found between the hem of her sleep camisole and the waist of her short sleep shorts.

The moon came out from behind the clouds and the moonlight shone into the kitchen and on Brock, allowing Sam to see his features and how his eyes were raking up and down her body lustfully and she felt her cheeks warm at the attention she was receiving.

"You look like temptation incarnate in those shorts."

"What?" Sam was stunned and blushed harder, only then did Brock realise what he had said.

"Oh shit, I said that out loud didn't I."

"Ya' think?" She knew how she looked in her barely there shorts, but they were extremely comfortable. Still to be looked at like that and have those words said to her by her husband sent a shiver down her spine that she did not want to examine too closely. This was a marriage for money and platonic companionship, nothing more.

"Must be drunker than I thought."

"No, you're not drunk." Sam said as she began running her fingers through his hair and Brock closed his eyes, tilting his head down a bit so that Sam would have better access. "I do not even think that you are tipsy. Want to tell me what's up with you now?" she tried again.

Brock opened his eyes and Sam saw the lust burning in them.

"No." He wrapped his strong arms around her waist and dragged her to his body, so that she was pressed to his bare, sculpted torso. "I want to kiss you." Brock growled and Sam swallowed. "Can I?" He whispered and Sam nodded.

As soon as Brock got the ok, his lips were on hers and somewhere at the back of Sam's brain, was the thought that this was their third kiss. However, unlike the first two that were gentle, this one was demanding and desperate right from the start. Sam could do nothing but grip Brock's bare shoulders as he took as he wanted.

His tongue fucked her mouth, much like his cock would have done to her most intimate area, if this was a normal marriage. Brock's arms tightened around her small frame and crushed her even more to his body. His hand started roaming her body, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched and Sam moan wantonly when his hands drifted down her back, over the swell of her ass to grab each pert cheek, giving them a hard squeeze.

Sam broke the kiss to breathe and Brock trailed kisses down her jaw to her neck, sucking on the skin.

"Brock." She moaned brokenly.

He slipped the strap of her camisole off her shoulder to kiss and bite at the smooth mocha skin there.

"Come on Brock," she tilted her head back, eyes closed, "stop." She gently pulled on his hair, but that only encouraged him.

They only broke apart when Sam felt his hard manhood pressing against her stomach and came back to her senses.

"Brock, Brock, stop."

Something in the tone of her voice broke through his fog of lust because his removed his lips from her skin, letting his head fall on her shoulder, turning his face into her neck. His arms still around her waist.

"I am sorry." He mumbled, as Sam carded her fingers through his hair. "I know our marriage is one of platonic companionship. I did not mean to get carried away."

"It's ok. I was not complaining."

After a few more minutes with his head on her shoulder, Brock sat back up and looked Sam in her eyes. The expression on his face could only be described as heart breaking.

"Brock," Sam pulled him forward a little so that she could press her forehead against his, "please tell me what is wrong. You are beginning to scare me."

He took a deep breath before answering.

"My ex-girlfriend, who I was quite serious about cheated on me every time I was deployed, so I think I might be experiencing some anxiety that my new wife, might do the same, especially since we do not have a marriage with sex being a part of it."

Sam eased back so that she could look him in his eyes, her expression serious, "first off, you ex is a fucking cunt if she cheated on you. You are one of the most generous and kind men I have ever met. Any girl would have been lucky to have you as theirs. And know this, I. Will. Not. Cheat. On. You." She emphasised her words. "I do not care about the technicalities of our marriage; I am married to you and I have no plans to disrespect you or our marriage, so rest easy in knowing you can go fight for our country and that your wife will be waiting for you at home."

Brock squeezed his eyes shut, "Sam, you don't understand, you can fuck me over any other way you want, but if you cheat-"

"And you are not listening to me." Sam interrupted him. "I have no intentions cheating. I have never been in a relationship, but I do know that fidelity is one of the most important aspects of any relationship." Sam took his hand and rested it over the left side of her chest so that Brock could feel the beat of her heart, "I plan on being faithful to you as long as we are married Brock. So please, come to bed. We both have a long day tomorrow."

Brock allowed Sam to pull him off the island stool and lead him upstairs. he became confused when they passed his room and continued to hers.

"Umm, Sam?"

"You will be sleeping in my bed tonight. Just sleeping." Sam said as she lead him into her room and closed the door. "Which do you prefer, big spoon or little spoon?"

"Big spoon." Brock said and Sam chuckled.

"Don't sound so offended." She walked to the left side of the bed, unaware of Brock's eyes trailing up and down her barely clothes frame in the soft lamp light. She got under the covers and flipped back the other side, patting the bed. "Just know that I have not shared a bed with anyone since I was five years old, so if I sleep bad during the night, do not feel bad if you want to kick me off the bed."

That got a laugh out of Brock, "there will be no need for that. I will just hold on to you tight so that you cannot move around."

After he got into bed and molded his body along her back, wrapping his arm around her waist, Sam turned off the lamp, allowing the room to be bathed in the silver glow of the moonlight.

Husband and wife laid there, their quiet breathing the only sound in the room and for some reason Sam felt the need to drop a very large bomb, or at least large in Brock's opinion right then and there.

"Hey Brock?"

"Hmm?" He was already falling asleep and he squeezed his arm around her waist.

"You're one of the best things that has happened to me and I am not going to do anything to mess that up."

"One of?" His warm breath tickled her neck. "So, what is the best thing that has happened to you?"

"Being accepted into the university of my first choice."

He chuckled, "I am glad you got your heart's desire."

"Yeah, and I got you too."

Brock held her tighter upon hearing those words.

* * *

"So, what are you planning to do for your Summer break?"

Brock and Sam walked through the airport, their joined hands swinging between them.

"Well before landing myself a rich husband, I would work as many summer jobs as I could. But now..." Sam trailed off.

"But now?"

"But now I'm not too sure what I am going to do. I mean for the first time in my life I do not have to worry about money, so I do not have to work the entire Summer, I can finally enjoy it. However, I am going to feel like a bum just doing nothing."

"How about taking some summer courses?"

"That thought did cross my mind and I have been thinking about submitting my resume to my professors to see if I can get in on one of their research projects."

"That's a great idea." Brock enthused. "Just remember to get some rest and have a lot of fun while you're at it."

"Yeah, Wanda a friends and group member is already making plans to haul me and her boyfriend, another group member to her brother's brand-new beach house."

They were nearing the boarding area where Brock would have to leave Sam, get on the plane that would be taking him to his deployment post and he wanted to delay the inevitability. He pulled her to a stop and turned to face her, taking her other hand in his.

"How is the group project coming along?"

"Fucking difficult topic in terms of the amount of research and literature we have to read. The only upside is, each section we complete, we submit it to Professor Hart he checks it and gives us feedback, and so far, we are on the right track."

"That great to hear, especially since it's worth 75% of your final grade."

"Ugh, don't remind me. Hart is the devil himself, this fucking project is stressing us all out."

Brock smiled gently, "well if this is you stressed, you wear it well."

Sam smiled up at him, though it dimmed a little when they heard the last boarding call for his plane.

"Well, that's me."

"Yeah."

"Come here." Brock pulled Sam towards him and wrapped her in a tight hug.

"Take care of yourself and come back to me."

"I will."

Just then they heard a camera shutter go off and turned to see Tony holding up his phone a grin on his face.

"It was such a beautiful moment, I couldn't help it."

Behind him, Steve, Peggy, Thor, Rhodey, Bucky, Bruce, Loki and Natasha all walked up.

Brock released his hold on her, as the former four walked over to him, all of them in their regular army uniforms.

"Where's Peter? Thought he would have been here to see you off." Tony looked around as if the young doctor would pop out of thin air.

"There was a change in plans. He got called to go on an out of town emergency surgery." Brock explained. "I spoke to him this morning."

"Pepper says she will see us all in six months’ time." Steve said, dropping his bag on the floor and pulled Sam into a hug that she happily reciprocated.

"Ah." Tony nodded in understanding. "I will make sure that he does not run himself into the ground."

"Yeah, just try not to blast a hole in your roof like the last time you 'kept an eye on him.'"

"It was just one time."

"Am I going to be safe, being left alone with your friends?" Sam asked, mildly concerned for her safety.

"We are going to have so much fun." Natasha draped her arm over Sam's shoulder.

"Oh, dear God I am going to die." Sam responded dry.

"I will make sure Sam stays in one piece." Bruce spoke up.

"Me too. I quite like having her as a student." Loki smiled warmly at her.

"Will Colonel Rhodes, Captain Rogers, Captain Carter, Staff Sergeant Rumlow, Sergeant Barnes and Sergeant Odison report to your respective plane for departure."

There was a moment of silence where everyone was quiet, and then they all burst out laughing.

"Come on." Steve tried to get control of the group. "You all heard the voice coming from the walls. Let's go before we all get court martialed."

The group hugged each other good bye, Brock and Sam lingering a bit longer in their good-bye.

"Make sure to send me a care package."

Sam smiled at him, "I will and I will have Peter put something in it as well."

Brock dragged her back into a hug. "Take care of yourself. I look forward to getting to know you more through all those letters you are going to be sending me."

Sam laughed and Brock enjoyed the sound of it. "Thank God for email and skype."

There was another announcement over the intercom, this one sounder sterner than the first.

"Will Colonel Rhodes, Captain Rogers, Captain Carter, Staff Sergeant Rumlow, Sergeant Barnes and Sergeant Odison report to your respective plane for departure. NOW."

"Shit!" Steve took off running, as did the others.

Sam watched as they left, a heavy feeling in her chest as Brock disappeared out of sight.

"Is it always like this?"

Natasha and Tony wrapped their arms around her shoulders.

"Yeah." Tony whispered, "and it never gets any easier."

"Hey, how about we go pick up some food and go back Pepper's? We can have a late breakfast." Bruce suggested and they all agreed to the plan, not wanting to separate just yet.


	10. Let’s Not Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School is hell; at least Sam has her group members and a surprising job offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another new chapter. This one is rather short.
> 
> I hope that you are all enjoying this story!! :)
> 
> If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

"Fucking hell!" Clint dragged out the last word as the numbers on the computer screen in front of him swam before his eyes. "I am going to need glasses by the end of this semester thanks to this fucking project."

A tired Wanda looked at him, bags under her eyes. "I have been popping Panadol, like they are candy."

"I just need an I.V. line with coffee hooked up to my arm." Sam said as she looked through the thick folder she had gotten from the Ministry of Child Welfare, thanks to some help from Bruce. 

"You just had to choose one of the hardest topics, didn't you, you goddamn leprechaun." Clint glared at Riley, who looked like the walking dead.

"Listen, I just stuck my hand in the jar and pulled out a rolled-up piece of paper. How was I to know I had basically pulled out what was the  _tenth circle of hell?_ "

Sam slammed the folder shut and dropped in on the desk, "there is no use in griping about it now. Let's just all go home, get some rest and we can meet again tomorrow."

Her suggestion was met with agreement and they all packed up and parted ways outside the library or at least she tried to but Riley kept pace with her.

"So how have you been doing since soldier boy left you?"

Sam side-eyed him. "I have been good. He has not been deployed overseas yet, so we email every day."

"That's nice. So, any plans for the summer?"

"Just hanging out with Wanda and Clint and hoping that one of my Professors get back to me about helping out with their research project."

Whatever Riley was about to say was cut off when Sam heard an oh so familiar voice call her name.

"Yes, Professor Hart?" Sam answered as she turned to see the devil incarnate approaching her.

"Mrs. Wilson-Rumlow, I am glad I caught you."

Sam was not so glad and she is sure it showed on her face. 

"I just wanted to know why you did not submit your resume to me as a candidate to assist with my research project?"

There was a moment of silence before Sam regained her wits.

"Are you seriously joking right now? Because you constantly ignore me in class, why would I send my resume to you?"

"Mrs. -" Professor hart cut himself off to look at Riley and raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be somewhere else Riley?"

"Shouldn't you be dead by now?" Riley shot back and Sam spun around to stare at him wide eye. The hatred in his eyes made her take a step back from between the two men and she watched them, wondering if they were going to come to blows.

"I think you should walk away right now O'Brady-Callaghan."

Riley opened his mouth to say something but Sam beat him to it.

"Riley, walk away."

He stared at her and she stared back, until with a huff and one last glare at Professor Hart he walked away.

They watched him go. 

"Damn, and I thought I hated you."

Professor Hart rolled his eyes, "so what do you say about coming on as my research assistant? I have a lot of data that was collected during the school year that needs to be entered and analysed and I know how good you are when it comes to analysis, from your assignments and exam papers I have graded."

"And robbed me of marks."

"And that." He actually looked ashamed. "How about I make up for that, by turning this into a summer course, so that you can get three extra credits as well as a recommendation into any graduate programme of your choice when you graduate?"

"Will I be paid?"

"Of course. I am not fond of slave labour."

Whereas others would have been offended at that, Sam laughed. She considered what he said and it was a good deal.

"When do you need an answer?"

"Tomorrow."

"Ok, I will give you an answer then."

"Good day Mrs. Wilson-Rumlow."

"Bye."

"Oh, one more thing. Your husband, is he treating you well?"

Sam tilted her head. That was an odd question to ask, especially since it was coming from Professor hart.

"Yes, he is. Quite well. He's a good man."

Professor Hart smiled and it reached his eyes. "That is great to hear. Congratulations on your marriage."

 

"Thank you Professor Hart." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my friends actually said - "Shouldn't you be dead by now?"- to one of our teachers when we were in high school. Turned out he was her half-brother, with a lot of family drama concerning him. 
> 
> Let's just say that she could have gotten away with murder where he was concerned. She got away with a lot of shit and he covered for her. I want a brother like hers.


	11. The Beauty Of Innocence.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Brock talk again.
> 
> Trouble is brewing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you are all enjoying this story!! :)
> 
> If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

**_To: Brock Rumlow_ **

**_From: Sam Wilson-Rumlow_ **

**_Sent: Friday, May 5, 2017, 9:15 P.M._ **

**_Subject: Just Checking In_ **

**_"Hey Soldier Boy (lol),_ **

**_My group and I completed our project for the Demon Professor on time and without killing each other. However, we did have to rush Clint to the E.R. the dumbass decided to pour a full can of red bull in his large cup of black coffee and drink it in one go. He then started complaining that his heart felt as if it was going to beat its way out of his chest. Doctors Wade and Parker were not amused, but they were happy it was not me on this bed this time around. :)_ **

**_The project submitted with time to spare after all that drama. And I have so far completed three out of my four final exams. The first three were literally one behind the other but for the last one, thank God, I have three extra days to study for it._ **

**_The Demon Professor offered me a summer job, with the conditions that he will make sure that I receive credits for it and that he will write me a damn good recommendation letter for any graduate programme of my choice. I accepted his offer. Get this, the project is about 'The Mental and Emotional Effects of Children Conceived from Rape and Raised by the Rape Victim.'_ **

**_-_- I wonder if he knows about my background, that's why he approached me? *strokes imaginary beard*_ **

**_Regarding the project, I will be doing face - to - face interviews, data entry and analysis. Professor Hart said that a Ph.D. candidate will be assisting and he will introduce us when I begin helping._ **

**_Peter said to tell you 'hi' we had lunch the other day (made the lunch date when Clint was rushed to the E.R.) with Wade, who is completely in love with a Radiologist named Vanessa. Brock, he is totally head over heels for her and she is equally gone on him. It is quite adorable. He leaves little notes in her locker (I could get diabetes from just watching them)._ **

**_Everyone else is good. We are all trying to keep Pepper as happy as possible as her due date approaches, Tony is still trying to convince me to transfer to M.I.T. and study mechanical engineering. He says I have a knack for fixing things. :D I have a lunch date with Natasha next week; she's cool when she's not trying to intimidate me._ **

**_That is it for today's update. I will email you tomorrow as well. Right now, I am going to hit the books until I pass out._ **

**_I do not know when you will see this, but stay safe and tell the others 'hi' for me._ **

**_I can't wait to see you. :)_ **

**_Sincerely,_ **

**_Angry Midget."_ **

Sam smiled as she signed the email, remembering in a previous email how Brock had referred to her as an ‘angry midget' when she had ranted about the group project and breaking the kneecaps of the faculty's dean for changing the course outline on such short notice. She pressed send and watched as the internet page returned to her email home page.

Sighing she turned to the thick Behavioural Psychology text book which laid closed beside her, as well as her note book and umpteen of study cards on which she had made flash cards, happy that it was the weekend so she could afford to sleep late the next day before hitting the grind again. 

* * *

"You look as if you just got out of the joint after serving a prison sentence." Natasha commented as she took in Sam's relaxed and open expression.

She laughed and Natasha could not help but notice all the looks the young woman in front of her was receiving from the men in their vicinity.

"It does feel as if I just got out after serving time. This semester was rough." Sam leaned back in her chair, outside the little bistro Natasha had decided to treat her to after a grueling week of exams. 

"What are your plans for the summer?"

"Work as a research assistant/data entry personnel for one of my professors and relax. This is the first summer where I do not have to worry about where my next meal is coming from, so I am going to enjoy it to the fullest."

Natasha smiled one of her rare smiles. 

"I am happy for you."

"What about you? Got any plans for the summer?"

"I am thinking of expanding my business."

Sam brows furrowed, "business?"

"Yeah, I own a 24/7 diner, and the cool part is that at 6:00 P.M. each evening, the back of the building transforms into a bar."

"How does one go from the military to owning a diner/bar?" Something dawned on Sam at that moment. "Why did you leave the military in the first place?"

"After being shot twice in the span of three months I decided that it was time to move on. I opened the diner and bar because I wanted to do something that was not stressful and after being military for ten years, I wanted to be my own boss, not to mention I was a Captain so I know how to lead people."

Sam nodded in respect, "good for you. And how did you meet Tony?"

Natasha shook her head at the memory.

"Tony came in one night, drunk off his ass and hanging off an exasperated Rhodey. I was helping out on the floor and Tony in his drunken state took one look at me and asked me to marry him."

"That does seem like something Tony would do."

"And he did it. I told him to eat, go home and sleep it off, which he did when he came back the next night cold stone sober and asked me out on a date."

"I am assuming you said 'yes' since you married him."

Natasha spun the ruby and emerald platinum wedding band around her finger.

"I said 'yes' to dinner and then three weeks later when he asked me to marry him I said 'yes'."

Sam stared at her unblinking. "Well at least you guys dated, I met Brock twice before he proposed marriage upon our third meeting."

"How is married life treating you?"

Sam shrugged and took a sip of her drink. "There is really not much to write home about. We have a contract marriage or a marriage of convenience, whatever you want to call it. We are virtually strangers; yes, we are learning about each other little by little, but he is there and I am here so there's that and for the little time we spent together have me missing his presence. We were almost always together before he shipped out."

There was a bout of silence, as Sam stared at her glass of lemonade and Natasha examined the young lady sitting before her.

"Hey, Sam," she waited until she had Sam's attention before continuing to speak, "just to let you in on a little secret, part of my time spent in the military was that of a spy." Sam's eyes widened at the revelation. "So, I can tell from little things, like your fidgeting that you have something weighing on your mind."

"How are you so sure that I do not have nervous habits?"

"Because you are the first person in a long time not to cower when faced with the  _Black Widow,_  so it's not nerves bothering you."

Sam closed her eyes and sighed, "it's about the marriage contract Brock and I have with each other."

"What about it?"

"After hearing Brock's proposition and before agreeing to this marriage, I told him that I would not be a glorified prostitute. Therefore, we do not have a sexual relationship.” Sam bit her bottom lip before confessing, “I mean, we have kissed and he has groped me, and we do find each other attractive, but he has made it clear that he will not push me for anything more than platonic companionship. But..." Sam trailed off after getting that all out in one breath.

"But you can't help feel that that is a bit unfair to Brock." Natasha finished.

Sam nodded weakly, grateful that she could speak to someone about this.

"I will be straight with you. I am a virgin -"

"I figured as much." Natasha interjected.

Sam continued without missing a beat, "so I have not the slightest idea as how to approach this. Brock was my first kiss for fuck's sake."

"In my opinion, you should talk this over with Brock first instead of just jumping him the moment he steps through the door."

Sam chuckled at that.

"Inform him of the reasons for your change of heart, but most importantly, let him know that you are not doing this for him only; that you want to experience that sort of intimacy with your husband."

"You actually give pretty sound advice. Thanks."

Natasha looked smug, "I know and incoming 9 o'clock."

"What?" Sam had no time to be confused before a shadow fell over their table and both women looked up to see who had intruded on their lunch date.

"Good day ladies." A tall, dark gentleman said in a warm, friendly and accented voice.

"Good afternoon." Sam and Natasha responded simultaneously.

The man nodded respectfully at Natasha and then his dark eyes were solely on Sam. 

"If I maybe so bold, I was wondering if I may buy you a drink sometime." He smiled and Sam thought that he would be the perfect model for a toothpaste add with his white, blinding smile.

Sam held up her left hand, the sapphire and diamonds of her wedding ring shining brightly in the sunlight. The man showed no reaction to what he was being shown.

"I do not think my husband would appreciate me going out for drinks with another man."

"I did not see that and I must say, your husband is one lucky man."

"We both are." Sam said.

"I will take my leave now. Ladies, enjoy the rest of your day."

Both women watched as the man walked away.

"I was wondering when he would have approached you." Natasha commented once he was out of hearing range.

Sam looked at her, "I beg your pardon."

"He has been staring at you since we arrived. Hell, half of the men in the place have been staring at you." Natasha chuckled as if she found the situation funny.

"I had not noticed." Sam said, which was true. She had been stared at so much by the opposite sex since the age of twelve that she was now a pro at ignoring them.

"I can see that." Natasha smirked. "Does the short-legged leprechaun know that you are married?"

Sam was baffled, "leprechaun? You mean Riley?"

Natasha nodded.

"Oh my God." Sam sighed and slouched down in her chair. "I have no idea what his deal is. He showed up one day and now I can't get rid of him. Can you do it?"

"That part of my life is over."

"Shame."

"He might have had a crush on you and since you are now unavailable, he might just want to be your friend."

"Friend my ass." Sam rolled her eyes, "he and Brock almost came to blows the first and only time they met. I thought that I would be rid of him after the completion of the project but I was wrong. He just seems to pop up wherever I am."

"Well speak of the devil." Natasha said, staring at something intently over Sam's shoulder.

Sam spun around thinking that she was going to see the Irish young man standing behind her only to see other patrons seated and enjoying the good weather and even better food. She turned back around and narrowed her eyes at a smirking Natasha. 

"That was not funny."

Natasha began giggling and Sam dropped her head back, covering her eyes with her hand.

"It's a miracle that he's not working on Professor Hart's project. Even he has asked me if Riley knows that I am married."

"Well, if he crosses the line, just let me know." The red headed woman said.

"You mean if there is anything left of him if he even attempts at crossing the line."

"That's my girl." Natasha praised and raised her glass, to which Sam clink hers against.

* * *

That night Sam sat in front of her laptop, the cursor blinking on a clear page where she could write an email to Brock. She felt as if it was mocking her current crisis. She had no idea of how to broach the subject of introducing intimacy into their contract marriage. Each time she started tying she would erase and be back at square 1: an empty message page with the cursor mocking and tormenting her.

**_To: Brock Rumlow_ **

**_From: Sam Wilson-Rumlow_ **

**_Sent: Friday, May 12, 2017, 9:15 P.M._ **

**_Subject: Condition of Our Contract Marriage_ **

**_"Hi Brock,_ **

**_I hope this email find you in good health._ **

**_There is something I need to discuss with you regarding the terms and agreements of our marriage. It is nothing urgent, but it is a serious matter that we need to discuss face to face. Preferably when you are on leave. As I said before, it is NOT an urgent matter, just something serious and personal that we should discuss, so please DO NOT freak out when you read this email._ **

**_Sincerely,_ **

**_Sam"_ **

Sam hit 'send', knowing that if she had hesitated she would have deleted everything she wrote and kept quiet about the turmoil raging inside of her. Satisfied that there was no way to back out now she, settled down on her bed and began watching a movie.

The movie had just reached the climax an hour later when a  _skype_  notification popped up that she had an incoming video call from Brock and she instantly froze, knowing what he was more than likely calling about. She hesitantly took the call and instantly, his handsome face was visible on the laptop screen. Sam's eyes trailed further down and she saw that he was shirtless and something stirred deep within her at the sight.

 _"Sam?"_ Brock's voice and image were surprisingly clear and her eyes snapped back up to meet his, knowing that he had caught her staring.

"Hey Brock." 

He smiled and she felt butterflies in her stomach.

_"Hey, I got some internet time, so I took a chance to see if you were online."_

_'Oh.'_ She thought, hoping that she was in the clear, but knew better.

_"And I also read your email."_

"That was quick." Sam commented, ignoring the high pitch in her voice.

_"What are you up to?"_

She had no idea if he was taking pity on her and trying to change the subject or if he was easing into the conversation.

"Nothing much, just watching a movie."

_"On a Friday night? No friends to hang out with or parties to go to?"_

"After the week we all had, I think everyone except for me is currently asleep."

_"I saw your previous email as well. Sorry that I have not replied to it yet."_

"It's ok, you have been busy, hell both of us have been rather busy." Sam smiled gently at him, "this more than makes up for it."

There was a beat where they both stared at each other.

_“Are you going to tell me what is so important but at the same time not urgent and why I should not freak out?"_

"You know, when I said, 'face to face' I meant in person, not over a video call."

_"I am not going to be home until three months’ time Sam, so now is a good time as ever. Just tell me what's up. What is it that we need to discuss?"_

Sam was at a loss for words. She knew what she wanted to say, just not how to say it and as Brock sat there, thousands of miles away from her on the other side of a computer screen waiting for her to speak, she could feel her face getting hotter and hotter.

_"Sam?"_

"I want us to consummate our marriage!"

Sam buried her face in the bed and could heard the proverbial crickets chirping in the silence that ensued afterwards.

 _"Umm..."_  Brock sounded just like how she felt, flustered.  _"Sam, darling can you raise your head for me please?"_

Sam shook her head in the negative and hoped that Brock understood her.

_"Sam, raise your head so that I can see your face."_

She acquiesced to his request and scraped her hair out of her face.

 _"Care to tell me what brought this on?”_ Brock asked, his voice soft. _“Don't get me wrong, I am elated that you want intimacy in our marriage, but you said that you did not want to be a ‘glorified prostitute’. So, what changed in the few short weeks that I have been gone?"_

"I think that it is unfair to you."

_"Unfair?"_

"Yes, I am getting the better end of the stick in this marriage, whereas all you have gotten are three mere kisses, cuddling and copping a feel of me."

Brock smirked when she said that last part.

"You are a man, you have base needs. I am sure you can beat off in your fist so much and no more."

 _"Wow, you really do not mince your words once you get rolling huh?"_ He tried to joke.

Sam gave him a flat look. "I am being serious here Brock."

Brock sighed and ran a hand over his face; he seemed to be thinking and then nodded.

_"Ok, I have leave in three months’ time, when I get home we will seriously discuss this and after, if you still wish to be intimate with me, I will give you a taste of this body."_

"Do you really have to say it like that?"

_"Fine, we will consummate our marriage."_

Sam nodded in approval of his words, "much better. And you know I am a virgin, right?"

_"I assumed as much from the first kiss we shared. And I am going to hazard a guess that that was your first kiss as well."_

"Yeah."

Brock sat back in his chair, he dragged his hand through his hair and down his face, his muscles rippling with the movement and Sam could not help but run her eyes down the work of art that was presented before her.

 _"Sam."_  Brock was staring at her, and she gave a shy smile, knowing that he had caught her again. _"You know, I feel quite objectified."_  He joked before adding,  _"you have seen me without my shirt quite a few times and I have yet to see you without yours."_

Sam felt as if she had swallowed her tongue when she had processed what he had said.

_"Hey, I was just joking sweetheart."_

"I know. Are you by yourself?"

_"Yes, why?”_

Sam did not answer, as she repositioned herself, so that she was now kneeling on her bed, giving Brock a good view of her torso. Without thinking about it, Sam grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and lifted it over her head in one smooth motion, glad that she was not wearing a bra from the look on Brock's face as she sat top-less in front of the computer, showing him some of what had had to offer him.

 _"Fuck, Sam."_  He breathed, " _you are gorgeous. You-"_  Brock cleared his throat.  _"Sam, I do not get leave for another three months and you go and do something like this."_

"Should I cover up?" She asked, taking up her shirt to slip it back on.

 _"No! No, please, I want to look."_ Brock looked like a man dying of thirst and Sam felt powerful, knowing that she was the cause of his current state.  _"I can't touch you, at least not yet, so please allow me to look my fill."_

Sam sat there, clad in nothing but her shorts, allowing Brock to admire her innocent beauty, feeling a warm sensation bloom in her chest at his open admiration.

* * *

Sam was hard at work, transcribing the interviews she had already conducted, as well as entering and analysing the data for Professor Hart's research project. She was situated on the couch in his campus office, busy typing away. Her fingers may have been doing work, but her mind kept flashing back to the conversation she had with Brock a few days ago, not to mention when she had stripped off her shirt in front of him.

To say her dreams since that night had been interesting would have been an understatement. She had a count of days going until Brock would be back home and they would consummate their marriage. Sam was so wrapped up in her thoughts and work that she did not hear Professor Hart calling her until he was standing at the side of the couch, his hand on her shoulder.

"Sam."

"Yes, sir?"

"You ok?" Concern shone in his hazel eyes as he looked at her.

"Yeah, just got wrapped up in what I was doing."

"I can see that." He glanced out the window and Sam followed his line of sight, only to realise that night had fallen. 

"Oh, I had no idea how late it had gotten."

"Pack up your stuff and I will walk you to your car."

Sam packed her things and waited as Professor Hart locked his office door, before walking side by side down the corridor, down the stairs and out the front door of the building.

They walked in silence, the warm air telling that Summer was right around the corner.

"Why were you such as asshole to me when we first met?" Sam's voice broke the stillness, though it did not give any hints of what she was feeling.

Professor Hart sighed before answering, "I must apologise, I did not mean to intentionally be an asshole, but you are the smartest student in class, probably the entire university but no one saw that. They only saw that you were a poor scholarship student."

"People see what they want to see."

"That is true."

"Still does not answer for you being an asshole to me."

Sam's car came into view and they stopped by it; leaning her hip against it as Professor Hart looked down at her, the street light shining in his eyes.

"I ignored you in my class because you were always answering my questions and participating, while the other students did nothing. Looking back on how I behaved, I could have gone about that in a better way."

"Ya' think?" Sam asked incredulity lacing her words. "What about you giving me low grades, when you damn well knew all my papers are excellent?"

"I won't lie Sam, you are highly intelligent, but some of your papers could use a  _little_  work."

Sam rolled her eyes and opened her car door. "Gee, so instead of showing me where I went wrong, you just mark me down, lower my G.P.A. and made me have to fight and bleed just to keep my scholarship." She got into her SUV and slammed the door, turning on the ignition so that she could put the window down and stuck her head out of it.

"Thank you very much Professor Hart."

"Again, looking back, I could have gone about that differently. Get home safely Sam, the other research assistant is coming tomorrow."

"Ok, bye."

Professor Hart, stood off to the side and watched as Sam drove off, her headlight disappearing as she turned the corner of the parking lot.

* * *

"Sam, I would like for you to meet the newest addition to our research team."

Sam turned at the sound of Professor Hart's voice, her eyes immediately zeroing on the person he was introducing and she felt them widen as recognition sunk in.

"Ah, so we meet again." The man said.

"Unfortunately." Was Sam's dry response.

Professor Hart looked between his two research assistants. "Do you know each other?"

"I had the pleasure of meeting this young lady a few days ago." 

Sam rolled her eyes. "What he meant to say is that he asked to buy me a drink and still flirted with me after I told him that I am married."

"Well, I hope that won't be a problem with you two working together." Professor Hart said, but already made a mental note to remind the young man not to overstep any bound with Sam.

"It won't." Sam said, before continuing, "unlike some people, I know how to behave professionally and do not allow my feelings for others to cloud my judgement"

The young man standing in front of her looked amused. "Well, now that that is out of the way, allow me to introduce myself." He extended his hand towards her. "My name is T'Challa and I am a native of Wakanda, doing my Ph.D. at this prestigious university under the supervision of Professor Hart."

Sam took his hand in a firm grip. "The name's Sam Wilson-Rumlow. Research assistant only for the money and extra credits, not for the company."

T'Challa smiled wide and warmly at Sam. "You do not sugar coat your words do you, Miss Wilson-Rumlow."

" _Mrs._ " Sam and Professor Hart said at the same time.

Sam pulled back her hand from his.

"Of course, my apologies." He said and Sam could hear that he was not sorry at all.

"Well, I am sure this will be a beautiful work relationship." Professor Hart walked over to his desk and Sam back to the couch he had in his office where she had set up her little work station, all the while T'Challa's eyes followed her. 

Professor Hart looked up in time to see him devouring Sam with his eyes and cleared his throat. T'Challa looked over at him, not even a bit sheepish at being caught checking out a married woman, who was not giving him the time of day.

" _Mrs_. Wilson-Rumlow," Professor Hart addressed Sam, stressing her title, "you will continue with the interviews, data entry and T'Challa will assist you with the analysis and compilation."

"Ok, Professor." Sam answered, already engrossed in what she was previously doing.

"T'Challa, when you are not assisting Sam, you will be shadowing me, working on your thesis that you will send me weekly updates on so that I may go over your work." Professor Hart checked his watch. "I have a meeting across campus in fifteen minutes, I will be taking my leave now. Sam when you are leaving remember to lock up."

Sam still staring at her laptop screen and typing away, "ok prof, will do."

Professor Hart made his way towards the door, paused and spun back around to speak to T'Challa who had taken a seat on the armchair adjacent to the couch Sam was occupying, reading over the data she had already analysed.

"Oh, T'Challa."

"Yes, Professor?"

"Do remember that Sam is a married woman."

That caught Sam's attention and her eyes snapped up to Professor Hart and then over to T'Challa.

"Good day to you both." He left the room, leaving his two newly acquainted research assistants with each other.

The room was quiet, save for Sam's typing.

"So, how long have you been married?" T'Challa broke the silence, not looking up from what he was reading.

"How is that any of your business?" Sam's tone was meant to dissuade him, but it seemed as if he just took it as a challenge.

"Just trying to make conversation. We  _are_ going to be working together."

"Unfortunately." Sam said dryly without missing a beat of her typing.

T'Challa focused his attention on her, "did I really make such a bad first impression when we met?" 

"Well, my friend who I was with, said that you had been staring at me from when we had arrived." Sam stopped what she was doing to give him her undivided attention. "I hate people staring at me; it is extremely rude, not to mention the shit you pulled early when we were introduced, blatantly disregarding the fact that you know I am married and referring to me as  _'Miss.'_ "

"Again, I apolo-"

"Shove your apology." Sam stood and began collecting her things. "I know what you want, but get it through your head, I. Am. Married. And as I told the many men who came before you,  _before_ I was married, I am not interested."

Just then the office door swung open to reveal Riley.

"Hey Sam, you good?" He asked, his eyes alternating between them.

"Yeah, Ri, I was just about to leave."

"Ok, I will wait on you."

T'Challa saw how Riley was looking at him and the familiar way in which they spoke to each other.

"I am assuming that this young man is your husband."

Sam stopped what she was doing, turned and look at Riley, who raised an eyebrow in turn.

"Not that is it any of your business mate, but no, I am not her husband."

"Oh," T'Challa was pleasantly surprised by the information.

Riley smiled slyly, "no, her husband is someone you don't want to mess with."

"Riley." Sam chastised.

"What?" Riley tried to play the innocent card, but failed miserably, something he did on purpose. "Just warning the new guy that he should not mess with a military man's wife."

"And this is where you both displace yourselves from this office so that I can lock it up and go home." Sam pushed pass Riley and stepped outside the office door, waiting for both men to exit before locking it.

The three of them walked out of the building, Sam and Riley in front with T'Challa walking behind them.

"So, you're coming to Wanda's beach house?"

Sam looked at Riley, "do I really have a choice? Knowing her she would kidnap me and drag me with you all."

Riley laughed, "true. She is a special brand of crazy."

"And yet you are friends with her, so what does that say about you?"

"Pot calling the kettle black." Riley shot back. "You are friends with her as well."

"Oh no, that's called  _'Stockholm Syndrome'._ " 

T'Challa was observing their interaction with each other and spoke up, "Riley, was it?"

"What mate?" Riley threw over his shoulder.

"Aren't you a bit worried about getting too close to Mrs. Wilson-Rumlow? As, you said, do not mess with a military man's wife."

Riley stopped walking, causing both Sam and T'Challa to halt their steps as well.

"Riley?" Sam questioned. Over the course of their slowly blooming what Sam now called 'friendship' she found that Riley was oddly protective of her, especially when other men made advances towards her even if they knew she was married.  _Especially_ if they knew she was married and still passed their place with her.

"I am not too worried about getting close to Sam, because unlike you, the only interest I have in Sam is being her friend. I have no romantic interest in her. Hell, she is more of an annoying little sister."

"Wow, thanks for that Ri." Sam sarcastically said, but felt warm on the inside at hearing his words. She had never had a sibling, never had anyone close enough to her to feel that type of relationship and she found herself liking the bond that was forming between her, Riley, Wanda and Clint.

T'Challa looked Riley up and down, he then looked at Sam, "I will see you tomorrow Mrs. Wilson-Rumlow." 

Both Sam and Riley watched as he walked away, leaving them both in the campus parking lot.

"Well he seems like trouble." Riley said.

"I am not worried; if he tries anything I will just set Natasha on his ass.”

Riley smirked, "before or after you get through ripping him to shreds?"

* * *

"This world is a bit too fucking small for my liking." Sam said, phone pressed between her ear and shoulder as she spoke to Natasha and did her nails.

 _"Whose ass do I have to kick?_ "

Sam smiled, after their initial rocky meeting, both her and Natasha had quickly formed a bond and just like the rest of Brock's friends, she was just as protective of Sam as they were.

"Remember that guy who wanted to buy me a drink the other day?"

 _"Yeah?"_ Natasha dragged out the word.

"Well guess who's the other research assistant on Professor Hart's research project."

_"This world is indeed too small. So, what did he do?"_

"Other than showing blatant interest in me? Nothing. Myself, Professor Hart and Riley all set him straight or as straight as we could, but I have the feeling he is going to be trouble."

_"Well if he is, just call me and I will put the fear of God into him."_

"Will do."

_"So, have you spoken to Brock yet?"_

"Yeah, we will be having a proper conversation face to face when he gets home in three months."

_"Hmmmm, three months?"_

Natasha's tone made Sam raise an eyebrow.

"What? What is it?" Sam's curiosity was peaked. 

 _"Nothing."_  Natasha said a bit too quickly,  _"tell Brock I said 'hi' when he calls."_

"O.k.," Sam was confused by Natasha' s change in behaviour. "Talk to you later."

_"Bye."_

It was as if Brock had been timing her, as soon as Sam had ended her call with Natasha, her phone rang only to reveal a picture of him that she taken at the barbecue.

"Well speak of the devil and he shall appear." Her smile bright and Brock's deep laugh on the other end of the line made her smile brighter.

"And here I thought my wife would be happy to hear from me; yet she's calling me a 'devil.'"

"Oh, I am happy; it's just that Natasha and I were talking about you before you called and how small the world is. She says 'hi' by the way."

"Oh?" Brock was intrigued, "and just how small is this world?"

Sam bit her lip, eyeing the still wet navy-blue nail polish, wondering if she should tell him about T'Challa.

"Sam?"

"This guy asked to by me a drink a few weeks ago, when Natasha and I went out for lunch. I told him I was married and he moved on, only to be introduced to Professor Hart's other research assistant-"

"And let me guess," Brock interrupted her, "it's the guy from a few weeks ago."

"Yeah."

"Is there going to be a problem with you working with him?"

Sam shrugged her shoulders, forgetting that Brock could not see her. "Maybe, I am not sure. He deliberately addressed me by the incorrect title while addressing me today after being introduced."

"He did, did he." Brock's tone was even but Sam heard the hardness to it.

"No worries, he was corrected by myself and Professor Hart, not to mention Riley warned him not to mess with a military man's wife."

"I am not worried." Brock said, an edge to his voice. "I just don't trust him."

Sam took the phone from her ear, gave it a disbelieving look before returning it to her ear. "Or do you mean to say that you do not trust  _me_?"

"I meant what I said." Brock snapped. "If I did not trust you, I would have said so."

"Gee, thanks Brock." Sam sniped.

"Hey, don't take any attitude with me. I said nothing against you." Brock ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself. "I just do not trust men like him. It's as if they see a wedding band and think that it is a challenge."

"Brock," Sam's voice was levelled, "he can take it as a challenge all he wants, _but_ what else can he do? Nothing-"

"Trust me, a man like that can do a lot." 

"You do remember that I was born and raised in one of the roughest neighbourhoods in this state?" Sam reminded her husband. "I can more than handle myself."

"I know you can." Brock's voice was soft.

"And if he tries anything, I have the backing of your friends, as well as a one-woman army by the name of Natasha Romanoff-Stark. So, I am more than well protected."

Brock sighed heavily. "I know, I know. I just got a little worked up. Been burned before, just a little paranoid."

"And there is no reason for you to be." Sam smiled, "our marriage is highly unconventional, but I will respect and honour it, you have my word Brock and my word is damn good."

"Can we change the topic now?"

"Gladly." Sam was more than happy to talk about something else.

"So, what were you and Natasha gossiping about me?"

"How best to seduce you." Sam deadpanned.

The other end of the line was dead silent that Sam had a passing thought that the call had been disconnected. She checked, nope, the connection was still there.

"Brock? That was a joke. You there?"

"Yeah," Brock cleared his throat, "I am here. My mind just went somewhere."

"Where did it run off to?"

"Thinking of you seducing me. How you'd dress, what you would do."

"How about I just take off my top on camera for you again?" Sam smiled shyly, remembering how bold she was and how exhilarating it felt to bring such a such man to his metaphorical knees with her beauty.

"I think about that every time night before I go to sleep."

Sam chuckled, "do you jerk off to it as well?"

The line went silent again and the silence was telling.

"Brock, do you jerk off to the memory of me taking off my top for you?"

There was a sharp inhale of breath before Brock answered, "yeah, I do." His voice with a husky quality to it sent shivers down Sam's spine.

"What do you fantasize about while jerking off?" Sam really wanted to know. She was a virgin in every sense of the word, never having even touched herself and she wanted to know what Brock liked, so she would know how to please him when they consummated their marriage.

Brock licked his lips, the image of Sam's innocence beauty flashing before his eyes, "I fantasize that you keep stripping, only I am there with you. To touch, kiss you, to hear the sounds of pleasure that escape your luscious lips."

Sam closed her eyes, allowing Brock's voice to flow over her.

"I imagine wrapping my lips around your hard nipples, sucking, biting and licking them until your back arches in pleasure."

"Brock," Sam whispered.

"Yeah, darlin'?"

"My nipples are hard."

"Fucking hell Sam, you are going to be the death of me. My cock is so hard for you." Brock wanted so badly to see Sam, but he was not going to give up a sure call for an unsure internet video connection. "Are you wet Sam?"

"I am," she squeezed her legs together.  "but I can't touch myself."

That caught Brock's attention, " _why_?"

"My nail polish is still wet. I do not want to smudge them."

Brock chuckled, "you are something else Sam."

"And one more thing," her voice was small.

"What is it?"

"I have never touched myself before."

That confession almost had Brock wanting to say, 'fuck it' and go AWOL so he could come home to his virgin wife and show her pleasures of the skin.

"Sam, we are going to have so much fun."

She laughed at that, "can you touch yourself?" She bit her lip in nervousness.

"Yeah, I can." His voice was dark and husky. "Do you want me to?"

"Yeah, I want to hear what you sound like as you pleasure yourself to thoughts of me."

There was the sound of movement on the other end of the call and what sounded like cloth rustling. 

"What are you doing."

"Making myself more comfortable." Brock responded. "And I took off my shirt."

Sam smiled at the image in her mind. "I have seen you without your shirt and I must say I quite like what is underneath."

Brock's deep chuckle sounded over the line again. "Well you would be happy to know that my nipples are quite sensitive and I like having them played with."

Thoughts of teasing Brock until he begged her for release crossed her mind and her mouth was suddenly dry.

"What else do you think of? Tell me as you stroke yourself."

"You are so bossy for a virgin." Brock said but did as told and Sam knew, she heard the change in his voice. "I imagine how wet you would be from me touching you. How hot and  _tight_  you would feel around my cock as I slowly thrust into you." Brock's voice stuttered and Sam inhaled deeply, feeling herself grow wet.

"I would be gentle with you. It would be your first time and I would not want to break you."

"What if I wanted you to be rough with me? First time and all?" Sam asked.

"Then I would  _wreck_  you Sam." Brock breathed out. "I wonder if you would be quiet in bed or a screamer, if you would grip the sheets of the bed, or leave scratch marks on my back as I take you."

Sam bit her lips as she squeezed her legs together, trying to alleviate she was feeling deep between them.

Brock was stroking himself, thinking of her tight, wet heat. "I would fuck you so hard, you wouldn't be able to walk properly the next day." He slowly tipped over, from leaning against the wall by his bed to lying flat on his bed. His pants open and pushed down to his thighs, hard, dripping cock in his hand as his phone was tucked between his ear and shoulder. His abs contracted with each pleasured touch.

"Sam, Sam." He whispered her name like a prayer.

"Yeah Brock?"

"Do you know what I would do after you came and I released my seed in you?"

She shook her head, only remembering that he could not see her.

"No, what would you do?"

"I would slowly pull out of you, making sure to rub your oversensitive pussy right as I did so, watching as you twitch. I would then slide down the bed, kissing and marking your body." Brock inhaled deeply, as his hand sped up, knowing that he was close. "When I got to your newly deflowered pussy, I would stick my tongue in it, as far as it could go and eat you out. Tasting my seed in your sweet cavern."

Sam dropped her head to the table in front of her, Brock words making her even hotter. "You have a filthy mouth Brock."

"All the better to make you scream in pleasure Sam." 

"Are you a screamer Brock?"

She heard him chuckle over the line. 

"Well, I am not a quiet man." He sighed, feeling himself get closer to completion. "Hey Sam, I am not going to last much longer."

"You can let go when you want to."

"I said that we need to sit down and seriously talk about this when I get back, but I don't know if I will be able to able to control myself enough when I see you." He felt his balls draw tight and knew that he was very close to the metaphorical precipice. "I might pounce on you and hurt your little virgin pussy."

"I can handle whatever you throw at me."

"And I want to give you everything that you want. I want to show you the world."

"I want to experience it with you Brock."

That one statement made Brock fall over the edge with a shout and Sam smiled to herself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is NO slow burn in this story. Sam and Brock both want each other and each other they shall have.


	12. Fun In The Sun.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sand, Sea, Sun...and maybe Sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SAM’S MOTHER’S RAPE IS MENTIONED IN THIS CHAPTER!!! DO NOT READ IF IT WILL TRIGGER YOU!!
> 
> NEW CHAPTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> If you see any errors, please to POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

"And her hair! Oh my God! It looks as if it was spun by gods!"

Sam, Clint and Wanda all watched as Riley walked back and forth in front of them in Clint's apartment living room.

"You know, the more he describes her, the more she sounds like a goddess." Wanda commented.

"And  _waaaaayyy_  out of his league." Clint added.

Riley spun around, startling his friends who were squashed together on the couch, there was a manic glint in his eyes. "Did I tell you she is studying medicine and she wants to specialise in cardiology and that she is at the top of her class?"

"Yes, you did." Sam answered, her voice dry. "How long have you been in love with this mystery girl? When are we going to meet her?"

Riley finally stopped his pacing and dropped himself down in the arm chair. He looked thoughtful, "well, I first saw back when we entered university, so about a year."

"And you're just asking her out?" Sam asked in disbelief, knowing who Riley was and how confident he was, she could not fathom him being nervous in asking out a girl.

"Sam, sweetheart, darling," Riley placed a hand over hers and she raised an eyebrow at his tone. "When you meet the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, you are either nervous or excited. For me it was the former, I had to take the time and I am glad I did." He smiled brightly, "we now have the entire summer to get to know each other."

Sam was happy that her friend was happy.

"So, about meeting her," Wanda began, "invite her to our summer outing to my brother's beach house. We can get to know her and tell her how you gushed over her to us."

"No, you will do no such thing."

Wanda stuck out her tongue and Riley retaliated by hitting her with a cushion which started an all-out pillow fight with nothing but laughter and squealing.

"So, how's it working with the dude from the other day?" Riley asked Sam as they walked to her car parked outside Clint's apartment building.

Sam unlocked the doors and got in before answering. "Well he is still alive, so there's that."

Riley laughed.

"He has not crossed any boundaries as yet."

"And when he does, you just let me know and I will handle him."

Sam levelled her friend with a look, "I can handle him just fine, thank you."

"I know you can; but you are like the little sister I never had." He grinned at her. "So, I want to look out for you." 

"Ok, Ri, you keep watching my six."

"Good." Riley clapped his hands together, "How are you and soldier boy? When is he coming home?"

"In a few weeks."

"Looking forward to seeing him?"

Sam heard the suggestive tone in Riley's voice and barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, I am. It's a bit lonely in that big house by myself."

"I understand." There was something in Riley's tone that made Sam glance at him from the corner of her eye.

"So, what about you?"

Riley turned to look at her. "What about me?"

"Aren't you going home for the summer? See your family?"

Riley snorted. "Hell no." The disdain in his voice had Sam looking from the road to him and back.

"Ok," she dragged out the word. "Don't get along with them I see."

"Well, my dad's dead." Riley said flippantly, before adding, "good riddance to him, karma was bound to catch up with him and my mother is currently living her childhood dream of travelling the world using his life insurance money." He grinned at Sam. "She sends me postcards on a weekly basis, that's why I stayed on campus for the summer; so that she will be able to reach me if anything should happen."

"Why'd you say that about your dad?" Sam was curious. Riley had never spoken about his family and the first time he does, he basically spits on his father's grave.

Taking a deep breath, Riley began speaking, "my father was not a good man. He mistreated me and my mother."

"He abused you?"

Riley shook his head. "He practically ignored me and constantly cheated on my mother."

"Why'd she stay with him?"

Riley's laugh was hollow. "Once I was old enough to understand what was happening around me, I asked her that very same question, every day until she finally answered." He fell silent and Sam waited knowing that Riley was confessing something extremely sensitive and needed time to gather his thoughts and himself. 

"She finally told me one day when I was twelve; 'Riley, sweetheart, if I ever leave your father, he will take you away from me.'"

Sam looked sharply at Riley whose eyes were red and glassy, but no tears fell yet.

"She tried to leave him when I was a baby and it did not go over well with him. Since my father came from old money and my mother from nothing, he sued for sole custody and would have won if my mother had not relented. He did not want me, he just wanted to hurt her." Riley released a strangled growl, his fists clenching and releasing. "She stayed with him through it all, but because of that we have this very solid relationship."

"She stayed with him until his dying day." Sam commented.

"Yeah," Riley's grin was vicious, "and received a fucking big-ass pay cheque for it."

"And you are both free of him."

"Free of him and his family, except for his brother."

"His brother?"

Riley deflated as if someone had poked a hole in him, releasing all the air. "His younger brother; he knew what my father was like, so he watched out for my mother and me."

Sam glanced at him again, "I take it from your tone that you are not very fond of him."

"I am not. He-" Riley stopped speaking and turned his head to look out the window, effectively hiding his face from Sam. "My father did something beyond horrible that he knew about and he said nothing. He just stood by as my father's actions caused irreparable damage and he did nothing."

The car was silent for a few minutes before Riley spoke again. "So, what about you? Any family to visit?"

"Well, my mom is dead. Please, do not apologise." Sam said immediately when she  _knew_  he was about to do so. She also knew his next question and took a deep breathe, preparing herself for it.

"What about your dad?" Riley asked, his voice soft.

"Never knew him." 

They stopped at a stoplight and Sam turned to face Riley. "My mother was raped when she was fifteen." Riley sucked in a sharp breath, his eyebrows hitting his hairline. "She got pregnant with me and decided to keep and raise me with unconditional love until the day she died."

"Sam-" Riley was at a loss for words. What do you say to someone who is a child of rape? "Did they ever catch the guy?"

She shook her head and started driving again. "Whoever raped her, was a coward, he had to knock her out first and drag her to a secluded area. However, while he was raping her, she regained enough consciousness to tell the cops that her rapist was white with an accent, before he knocked her out again. She spent three weeks in the hospital from her injuries."

"Rapists all deserve to die horrible deaths."

Sam nodded her head in agreement.

"Let's go get some milkshakes." Riley suggested and Sam was all too happy to agree with the suggestion.

* * *

Sam was relieved when the interviewing and data collection portion of her job was over. Hearing the stories of some of her interviewees solidified her perspective that her mother was a saint for raising her with nothing but the best intentions and unconditional love. She had no idea how she would have turned out if her mother had taken out her anger on her for what that monster did to her.

She was sitting in her regular spot in Professor Hart's office, entering the data collected when T'Challa walked in.

"Good afternoon Sam."

"Hey." Sam greeted, her eyes not leaving the laptop screen.

He came further into the room, sitting in the armchair adjacent to the sofa where she sat. He took out his own laptop, opened it but that is as far as he got before he began harassing Sam. 

"What are your plans for after you graduate?"

Sam ignored him and continued typing.

"Sam?"

"Grad school."

T'Challa nodded, "wise choice."

"Gee, thanks for your approval." Sam replied sarcastically, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. 

His laugh was deep and rich. "You do not like me do you?"

Sam stopped what she was doing and looked up at him, her face blank. "For supposed genius who attended  _Oxford_ , you sure are slow on the uptake."

"Well then, what can I do to make you like me?" He smiled in what Sam sure other women would think is charming but not her. 

"Not a goddamn thing." she went back to the task at hand.

"No, I am sure I can make you like me."

Sam ignored him. 

"Alright then, you want to go to grad school, are you thinking locally or internationally?" T'Challa continued speaking, his eyes never leaving Sam. "If you want to study abroad, I would recommend  _Oxford._ "

"I am a wife; I would have to discuss any plans of studying in another country with my husband first."

"You are so much more than just some military wife."

Sam's eyes snapped to his, anger burning in them. "Oh, trust me, I know that I am more than just a _military wife_ as you so put it. I do not need you or any one for that matter telling me what I am."

Seeing that he had angered her, T'Challa opened his mouth to apologise, only for Sam to cut him off.

"Shove the apology I know you are about spit out. I do not want it. Since day one, I have made it clear that we are nothing but two students working on the same research project for the same professor. That. Is. It. Nothing else." Sam made a slashing movement with her hand. "We are not friends, so quit asking me questions about my future and quit it with you thinly veiled snide comments about my marriage."

"Sam, I respect both you and your marriage."

"Bullshit." Sam snapped, tired of T'Challa and his shit. "Now get out."

"Excuse me,-"

"I said get out. Whatever, you have to do can be done elsewhere." 

Without any further argument, T'Challa left Sam alone in the office. She was by herself again for less than five minutes when the door opened again.

"Thought I told you to get the fuck out- oh, hey Riley."

Riley stood in the door, eyes wide at the greeting he received. "Hi to you too Sam. I take it that T'Challa was here."

"Yeah." Sam shoved her laptop off her legs, stood and stretched as Riley closed the door behind him and sat in the seat T'Challa had vacated. "Told him to leave, the undercover asshole was getting on my nerves."

"He likes you."

Sam gave Riley a flat look. "Too fucking bad." She got deja vu, having a similar conversation like this with Wanda about Riley, back when they had first met. "I cannot wait for this damn project to be over, so that I do not have to see his face again."

"Guys like women who are off limits; not to mention you are the package deal, you're brilliant, beautiful and funny, among many other good things and you are married at such a young age."

"Stop, you're making me blush." Sam teased, batting her eyelashes.

"Joke all you want, but he sees it as a challenge. Take it from the guy who had his first girlfriend pursued by another guy." Riley rolled his eyes.

"Shit," Sam sat down, "what happened?"

"Well, she broke up with me and started dating him, only for her to realise that he only liked the chase and not actually being with her."

"Fuck her, much better girls out there for you like Dinah, your doctor girl." Sam watched as a dreamy look came over Riley's face at the mention of her name and has to smile herself. "You really are gone for this girl aren't you?"

"Yeah." Riley all but said wistfully. "I can see myself living the rest of my life with her."

"That's good. Hope it works out for both you of."

"Me too, and same for you and Brock."

Sam nodded, remembering the fact that Brock would be back home in three weeks.

* * *

"I want to thank you both for all the help and time you have given to this research project of mine."

Sam looked bemused at Professor Hart's words. "You do realise that we are still in the data entry and analysis stage right?"

Professor Hart looked over his glasses at her from where he sat behind his huge oak desk, with T'Challa sitting on the other side and Sam in her usual spot. "I know." He smiled warmly, "but just look at the amount of work we have done so far, especially you Sam. Sometimes I regret giving you a key to my office, just thinking that you holed yourself up in here during your free time."

Sam waved off the praise, "no biggie, I mean I am not doing this out of the goodness of my heart; I have ulterior motives mainly money and a damn good grad school recommendation."

"Any thoughts about where you want to go?"

Sam saw T'Challa perk up at the question and rolled her eyes, looking pointedly at him when Professor Hart looked at her weird then nodded, understanding what she was saying.

"Got a few places in mind; but I have to talk it over with Brock first before making any concrete decisions."

"Ok, just let me know if you require any assistance."

Sam nodded, "I will and I am done here." She closed her laptop and began packing up. "See you around Prof." She called out as she exited the office. Sam had just arrived at the building's entrance when footsteps were heard behind her; taking a second to glance back she saw T'Challa walking towards her and did not bother concealing her annoyance, only continuing her walk out into the bright afternoon sun.

"I am not hear to bother you; my car is parked in Parking Lot A." He said as he fell into step beside her.

"Hmmm." She made a non-committal sound, just then her phone rang. Taking it out of her pocket, she was greeted with the sight of Brock's picture and number flashing across the screen and immediately answered.

"Hi!" A bright smile spread across her face, happy to hear from him and completely unaware of T'Challa's eyes on her.

_"Hiya Sammy girl! How are you doing?"_

"I am good, at school right now about to head home. How have you been?" There was background noise, different from what she normally heard when he called her, but it paid no mind, figuring he was in some town while he called her.

_"I am good. No guns or bombs going off around me as yet."_

"That is not funny Brock." Sam reprimanded.

_"I know, I am sorry."_

"I can't wait to see you in three weeks." She genuinely missed his company, not to mention she wanted to feel his body against hers.

 _“Shit Sam,"_ Sam felt her stomach turn to lead at the tone of his voice, knowing what was coming. "W _e have an upcoming mission, but as soon as I know when I can get some time off, I will let you know."_

She was in the parking lot walking to where her car was parked, T'Challa still walking with her when she stopped suddenly, almost causing him to run into her.

"Oh, you lying bastard."

Leaning against her Jaguar was a grinning Brock and Sam took off running towards him. She dropped her school bag on the ground the same time he eased up off her car and she ran straight into his arms, squealing with laughter when he picked her up off the ground and spun her around.

"You asshole! What are you doing here?!"

Brock still holding Sam up off the ground grinned, "I wanted to surprise you."

"Well colour me surprised." She tightened her arms around his neck as she hugged him, "welcome back." She whispered against his ear and he hugged her tighter, breathing in her scent.

"It's so good to see you too Sam."

Sam hummed her agreement.

When Brock opened his eyes, it was to see T'Challa staring at him a frown on his face, before he turned and walked away. He kept Sam in his arms until T'Challa had driven away, only then releasing her. 

She looked up at him, her chocolate brown eyes shining in the sun and Brock felt his heart stutter at the sight of her, so innocent and happy. He brushed her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear and she leaned into the touch, her eyes slipping close and Brock took the chance to seal their lips together.

Sam hummed when she felt his lips on hers, leaning into his strong muscular body, feeling his arms tighten again around her. Her lips parted when she felt Brock's tongue licking against them and she could not stop the moan that left her at the feel of his exploring her mouth. The kiss was slow, sweet and hot and would have led to other activities if they were in private.

They broke the kiss once they realised that they were grinding against each other, not wanting to be charged with indecent conduct.

"How come you are here so early?" Sam asked once she had regained her breath.

"Got the opportunity to start my leave early and I took it." Brock kissed her forehead and hugged her close to him again, not wanting to let go just yet, not that Sam was objecting. "Bucky took early leave as well, to be here for when Pepper finally gives birth."

"Hopefully it's soon; I think the next time she has fake contractions she is going to murder someone." Sam chuckled, recalling the three previous calls she received informing her that Pepper had gone into labour, only to be told once she got to the hospital that it was a false alarm. "More than likely Bucky, since he's the main culprit here, knocking her up and all."

Brock pulled back from Sam so that he could look at her face. "Yeah, we got some things of our own to talk about don't we?" His eyes slowly raked over her body and Sam felt her blood run hot from the obvious look of lust swimming in them.

She licked her lips, "we do, but first let's get out of here. Where's your car?"

"Bucky dropped me here, so I have to catch a ride with you."

Sam did her own once over of him, a smile full of mischief spreading across her face. "Oh really? Well that's going cost you soldier boy."

"And pray tell what the price is?" Brock played along.

"Hmm," Sam tilted her head considering, "I will figure something out, but for now," she tossed her car keys to him which he caught, "you can drive." As she was walking passed him, Sam feeling brave, grabbed his firm ass and  _squeezed_  causing Brock to laugh.

"So," Brock began once he had driven off the university campus and onto the main road, “I am guessing that was T'Challa."

"Yeah." Sam turned in the passenger seat so that she would watch Brock.

"I don't trust him."

"You don't have to worry about him." She reassured him. "He knows full well what will befall him should he try anything."

Brock quickly glanced at her before focusing back on the road. "I know, but us men are idiots and you my darling, are hot commodity."

Sam chuckled, "I beg your pardon."

"You are forbidden fruit with that ring on your finger. Before, you were this beautiful young lady, and then one day out of the blue you are suddenly off the market."

"You are the third person to tell me that just because I am wearing a ring, that makes me more appealing."

"Men want what they can't have." Brock shrugged. "It's human nature." 

"It's asking for an ass beating." Sam countered, smiling when Brock laughed.

* * *

Dinner was a quick affair of pizza and beer; one because neither could be bothered to cook and two, because they did not wish to have their long-standing discussion out in public at a restaurant.

They sat on the back patio beneath the stars, sitting side by side on the cushioned semi-circle couch. They had both showered, with Brock donning a pair of soft grey sweat pants and a black U.S. Army shirt, while Sam wore a long sleeved red and black flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows with a pair of short jeans shorts.

"Something just dawned on me." Brock said, breaking the peaceful silence between them.

"What?"

"You are only eighteen."

Sam glanced at her husband sideways, "yeah? And?" She tilted her beer bottle to her lips.

"You are not old enough to be drinking as yet."

Sam choked on her beer, pulling the bottle away from her lips and wiped her mouth. "Are you seriously telling me that you are only _now_ realising that I am too young to be drinking?"

"Yes."

"Wow Brock, just wow. Good thing you are pretty."

"I know I am pretty, and you are not yet of legal age to be drinking. So, no more drinks until you are twenty-one. Someone has to be the responsible one in this relationship"

"Oh, is that how it is?"

Brock nodded his head once, "that is exactly how it is." He was so caught up on sounding responsible that he missed the smile forming on Sam's face.

"Ok, then no consummating this marriage until I am twenty-one." 

"I agr-wait, what?!" His head snapped side-ways so fast, Sam was worried he had given himself whiplash.

"You heard me. I will abstain from drinking until I am of twenty-one and we will not consummate this marriage until that time."

Silence hung in the air between them.

"Is that an ultimatum?"

"Nooooo." Sam dragged out the word. "I just think it's the responsible thing to do, you know since you are the responsible one in this relationship Brock." Her words sounded so innocent, but the slyness shining in her eyes, and the smile playing on her lips were anything but. "You don't want to take advantage of your eighteen year old wife, do you?"

Brock's eyes roamed her body, from the top her head with her soft curls spilling down her shoulders and back, framing her face with her gorgeous brown eyes and lips made for kissing, to the shirt she was wearing under which he could clearly see that she was not wearing a bra, down to the short shorts she had on, that he had taken to referring to as  _Daisy Dukes_  in his head, showing off her beautiful legs and had to clear his throat, feeling himself grow hard in his pants.

"I think we got off topic here."

"Oh, and what topic did we stray from?"

"The one where you suddenly decided you wanted to consummate our marriage."

"Ah," Sam turned around to fully face him, folding her right leg under the left and resting her head on the fist of her right arm that she had braced against the back of the couch "that one."

"Yes," Brock mimicked her position, "that one."

 "Just one moment." Sam tilted the bottle back to her lips and chugged the rest of her beer until it was finished. Brock waited until she had placed the empty bottle on the edge of the fire pit. "I thought we were talking about me not drinking again until I am of legal age."

Brock just rolled his eyes. "And we both know that is never going to happen."

"True." Sam agreed, allowing the quiet to fall back over them for a few minutes as they observed each other. A cool breeze blowing to ruffle both their hair. She did not move when Brock slowly reached out his hand to take a lock of her hair and twirl around his finger.

"Do you still wish to consummate this marriage?"

"Yes, I do." Neither her eye voice nor her eyes wavered and he smiled gently at her.

"And you are not just doing this because you think I am getting the short end of this arrangement?" He searched her face, looking for uncertainty but found none.

"No, I am not. I have never had any sort of intimacy with anyone before, and who best to have it with than my husband?" Her eyes travelled over his body and Brock felt himself grow even harder. "My very hot, experienced husband."

His hand moved from her hair to her neck, his thumb rubbing the smooth skin. "And who am I to deny my wife her heart's desire." The next moment had Sam stifling laughter when Brock yawned wide.

"How about we save the rigorous activities for when you are not half way to being asleep?"

"That sounds like a good idea." Brock agreed, standing to stretch his arms above his head, causing his shirt to ride up and Sam's eyes immediately latched onto the tantalizing skin that showed.

"You go on up to bed." Sam said, standing up and facing Brock. "I got this."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, you had a long day of travelling."

"Thanks Sam." He kissed her good night and walked inside, only to back track a few seconds later. "Whose bed should I go up to?"

"Huh?" Sam was confused by the question.

"Well," Brock was looking anywhere but at Sam, and she swore that his cheeks were slightly red. "Should I go to my room or yours? I mean since we will be taking this marriage to another level, I was wondering if that meant sleeping in the same bed as well."

"I hadn't really thought of that, but we can sleep in my bed."

"Why your bed? What's wrong with my bed?"

Sam gave him a flat look, "your room is all orange. I don't want to wake up to something that might give me a seizure."

"Not even home for five minutes and you are already insulting my taste." Brock complained, walking back inside.

"I will be up shortly." Sam called after him, happy that he was home.

* * *

"Well, I am sure looking forward to some serious relaxation this weekend." Brock commented as they pulled up outside of Wanda's beach house.

"Is  _this_  a beach house?" Sam asked, craning her neck to look at the get-away mansion before them.

"It is. Now come on. I want to go swimming."

Sam hopped out of the SUV, "you know, for a guy who spends most of his time surrounded by sand, you sure as excited to see more of it."

"No, Sam darling." Brock walked around to her, "I am excited to get in the water and if I have to go across the sand to do so, then so be it."

"Sam!!!"

They both turned to see Wanda, wearing a floral sundress run out of the house, down the steps and to the drive way where she enveloped Sam in a big hug. 

"Good to see you too Wanda." Sam got out, slowly suffocating from a lack of oxygen.

"I am so glad you are here." Wanda released her, held her at arm’s length while she spoke to her. "You have to meet Riley's girlfriend, she is so adorable and she is my kind of sarcasm."

"I look forward to it and I have someone I would like you to meet."

Wanda remembering that they were not alone, spun around to an amused looking Brock. "Hi, nice to meet you, I am Wanda Maximoff."

Brock grabbed the hand she held out to him, "likewise, I am Brock Rumlow."

"Yo! Wanda, is that Sam and her hubby?" Clint's voice called out from the house.

She sighed and rolled her eyes heaven ward. "I am so glad that you are both here, hopefully you can help contain the crazy that is Riley and Clint." 

Sam laughed, "good luck, this one here is in a crazy category all by himself."

"Hey!" Brock said mock offended, "just for that you can carry our bags yourself."

Once inside, Wanda led the two newcomers to the kitchen where Clint, Riley and girl she had never met before were.

"Wanda, why is there a pool right there, if the beach is over there?" Sam asked, using her arms to point in opposite directions. 

"Is that what you are really concerned about right now?" Riley piped up, coming over to pull Sam into a hug which she returned. "We have introductions to do. And I will go first." He walked over to a lovely olive skin young lady, with dark almond shaped eyes, a sweet smile on her face and dimples in her cheeks. "Dinah, this is Sam Wilson-Rumlow and her husband Brock Rumlow. Guys this is Dinah Madani, my girlfriend." Riley's cheeks coloured on the word 'girlfriend.'

"Nice to meet you both." Her voice was soft but firm.

"Same."

"You too Dinah."

Sam and Brock said in unison.

"Alright my time. Everyone I would like to introduce you to Brock. Brock, you already met Wanda and Riley."

Riley gave a little wave, and Brock nodded back. Both men remembering their less than stellar first meeting.

"You met Wanda outside, Dinah in here and Clint is the permanently half-asleep guy."

Clint gave a wave. "I was promised a weekend of sea, sand and sun and I have yet to wet my toes. These folks were hungry and begged me to feed them."

"And fed us well you did." Dinah said, to which Clint smiled brightly.

"Careful Riley, your girlfriend likes my cooking." He teased.

"And that is all she likes about you." Riley hit back good naturedly.

"Mind your insults Ri," Clint's voice was sly, "you don't want me telling Dinah here about the 'library/water bottle incident'."

At the voicing of the threat, there was a flurry of voices.

"No!" Riley shouted.

Dinah was looking around at everyone, "incident? What incident? Tell me."

Sam opened her mouth to release the story, only for Riley to turn on her.

"Keep your mouth shut Wilson."

She did as told, with a smirk on her lips.

"Hold on," Brock spoke over the noise, suddenly realising that he was the only 'adult' in the house. "Are you all saying that everyone here including me knows about the 'library/water bottle incident' except for Dinah?"

Riley stared at his friends in horror. "Are you telling me that Sam told you?"

"Yeah."

"You belong in the ninth circle of hell Sam; the circle of betrayal."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop being dramatic and tell your girlfriend the funniest story in history."

"Yes!" Dinah encouraged, "tell your girlfriend."

"I regret you ever meeting these people I call friends." He grumbled before launching into the story, that had everyone, girlfriend included, howling with laughter, tears streaming down their faces.

"Ri," Clint slapped him on the shoulder, "I am telling you from now, that I will be telling that story at your funeral."

"Gee, thanks. Ok, enough of this, what are we doing first? Pool, beach, more food?"

"Beach!" Brock called out, his cheeks reddening when all eyes turned to him in amusement. "I vote for the beach." He said more sedately.

"I second that." Sam said.

"Third."

"Fourth."

Dinah and Clint called out respectively.

"Alright, so beach first." Wanda said. "We all chose our rooms already, so you guys can go up and select whichever room with an open door that you want." She said to Brock and Sam. "Everyone, go change and you can just walk straight down to the beach, we have a little private section.

The group broke up. Sam and Brock walking up a large, winding, polished wooden staircase that revealed a large upstairs, the common area well lit with natural lighting thanks to the large clear floor to ceiling windows that gave a beautiful view of palm trees and white sandy beaches. 

Sam was caught up in the view that she did not realise Brock was no longer by her side until he called out to her.

"I found a room that you are going to love."

"Did you check the other rooms, or did you just choose the first one with a hint of orange?" Sam asked once she had entered the room and found Brock standing at the window, looking out at the view that the angle of the room provided. He grinned at her over his shoulder. "Let's get changed, I want to go sit in the wet sand and let the waves wash over me."

Brock left the view and walked over to the bed where he had left his duffel bag. "You going to be ok with the whole, not being able to swim?" 

"Yeah, everyone here knows not throw me in the water, so I am good." She glanced up at him only to be shocked, "Whoa! What are you doing?!"

Brock had stripped off his shirt and his pants were already unbuttoned and unzipped, showing his choice of underwear. "What?"

"That." Sam waved at his half naked body. 

"We have seen each other topless before. You do remember that little webcam show you gave me right?"

Sam's cheeks burned with the memory and she folded her arms across her chest -unconsciously bringing Brock's attention to her rather generous bosom-, averting her gaze to the window but seeing nothing beyond it. "It was not a show and that is different."

"Why?" Brock dropped his shirt on the bed and walked around to her. "Is it because I was thousands of miles away and could not touch you?" He reached out, taking a hold of her arm, turning her to face him. She still would not meet his eyes and he took her chin between his forefinger and thumb, tilting her head up so that she had no choice but to look at him. "We will be consummating this marriage at some point before I return overseas and we will be seeing a lot more of each other then, but if it makes you uncomfortable now, I can change in the bathroom while you change out here."

"No." Sam bit her lip. "You don't have to do that. Just..."

"Just?"

"Go back to that side of the bed."

Brock laughed but did as told.  Once the bed was between them again, Sam took out her bikini swimsuit from her bag and began undressing. She removed her shirt and shorts, about to unhook her bra when she heard a sharp inhale of breath. Her eyes snapped up to Brock's own, almost black from how dilated his pupils were.

"Brock?" He looked as if he wanted to eat her alive. Her eyes dropped and she saw how hard he was in his pants. "You want to have a cold shower before going down to join the others?" That seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he had been in and Sam felt smug that all she did was take off her clothes and that was enough to hook him.

"I should probably finish changing in the bathroom." He said, beating a hasty retreat, leaving a stunned Sam staring at the now closed bathroom door.

* * *

Once everyone was changed, the six of them had a race to see who could make it to the shoreline the fastest and all were shocked when Dinah beat them, even Brock who was teased for being in the military and still being beat by a civilian. Sam came in dead last, breathing heavily.

"I am never running that hard in my life again, unless I am being chased by something." She panted, throwing herself down on a beach chair.

"You look like you need oxygen Sam." Dinah said, concern in her voice, "I can go look in my travel bag and see if I brought a tank with me." The others, Brock included, cracking up at Sam's expense.

"Y'all can suck it." Sam threw on her sunglasses and laid back, deciding to take things as slow as she could this weekend. Remembering the last time she had been to a beach was the summer before she turned sixteen; both her and her mother had planned the trip six months in advance, saved for it and had a grand time of a full day of playing in the water, sunning and eating junk food. The memory brought tears to her eyes and she was glad that she had on dark shade.

"Hey." A voice said from beside her and she turned her head to see Brock laying on a towel beside her chair. "You good?"

She smiled, "yeah, I'm here with my friends and husband. Never been better." 

The smile he gave her was blinding before he slid his shades back down on his face. "That's great to hear."

The rest of the day was spent alternating between swimming, eating and playing cards on the beach, Sam winning each game until everyone realised she was cheating.

Sam sat on the wet sand while the others swam out, dunking each other beneath the water and she wondered what it would feel like to be that weightless in something that almost killed her as a child.

"Penny for your thoughts." 

She looked up to see that Dinah was standing above her, looking down, a sweet smile on her face. "Just wondering what it would feel like to be able to swim."

Dinah sat beside Sam. "You should learn."

"Yeah, Brock said that he is going to teach me."

"Oh." Dinah sounded confused. "Why don't you join the swim club? They teach students how to swim."

"I am not very trusting when it comes to people holding my life in their hands when water is involved. Horrible childhood experience."

"Ah, say no more."

Sam was glad that she was not questioned on what had happened.

"Hey Sam!"

Both girls looked up to see Brock waving at her.

"Come here!"

She looked at Dinah, "he better have found buried treasure." Dinah laughed as Sam got up and walked out into waist deep water. "What?" She asked Brock who was gently treading water a few feet away from her, when she knew if she went any further, her head would be under the water. Not something she wanted to experience.

Brock swam closer to her until he was standing, towering over her, water droplets running down his sculpted chest and Sam was sorely tempted to lick the salty water from his body.

"Do you trust me?"

"Huh?" His question brought her back to reality.

"Do. You. Trust. Me?" He asked again, green eyes bright.

"Why?"

He rolled his eyes. "I want to take you out into deeper waters, but I want to know if you trust me enough to keep you safe."

Sam was taken aback, both by his question and his care for her well-being. It had been so long since she had had someone who showed such care for her and wanted nothing in return that sometimes she forgot how to breathe. 

"Yeah, I trust you enough for that."

His smile was breath taking. "Good, now come one." Brock had his arms wrapped around Sam's waist as they swam out to slightly deeper waters. He felt rather proud that Sam trusted him enough to do this, knowing her fear of water once her feet could not touch the bottom. He stopped when they were far out enough, but still close enough to see the shoreline and the rest of the group splashing about.

Sam had her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist and it was doing things to him. He looked at her face and saw a look of slight apprehension as Sam stared at the water sloshing around their bodies.

"Hey." His voice soft as he got her attention. "I got you." He squeezed her waist in reassurance. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Sam nodded, a slight smile on her face, plastering herself to him.

His hands moved up and down her back, the water allowing him to freely do so, feeling her small tight body in his hands. He felt goose bumps raise on her skin and felt her nipples harden behind her bikini top where they were pressed against his chest; lustful thoughts attacked him as he felt what their closeness was doing to her and he started speaking.

"You know, it would be so easy."

"What would be so easy?" Sam asked, not sure what Brock was talking about. She felt his hand slide from her back, down her side, slightly tickling her, only to gasp when it had reached her virgin core and rubbed gently.

"It would be so easy to move this." His finger caught the crotch of her bikini bottom, "to the side, take my cock out and consummate this marriage right here. It would make for one hell of a memory for both of us." His fingers continued stroking her through the cloth and Sam could not help but move her hips.

"That thought hadn't really crossed my mind." Her legs tightened even more around his waist, her blood on fire as Brock slowly teased her.

Finding her clit through the material, Brock pressed down on it, causing Sam to moan, her eyes closing at the sensation of pleasure. Laughter reached her ears, making her eyes fly open, remembering that they were at the beach with her friends.

"My friends are right there Brock." Her friends who was horse-playing in the water, not paying any mind to the couple who were wrapped up in each.

"No one would know a thing." He whispered, moving the cloth to the side, allowing him to touch her properly and Sam's hips bucked, her arms tightening around his neck. He found her clit and rubbed. Sam's eyes slid closed again, but he was having none of that. "Look at me Sam. Open your eyes.

Sam did as told, revealing eyes almost black with pleasure.

“Fucking hell Sam, you have no idea of the things I want to do to you. I want to make your body sing in pleasure."

Brock's hand sped up, delighted by the small sounds escaping Sam as he took her higher and higher. "I can't wait to get you alone again; to get you away from the public and have my way with you." 

Sam's arms at some point unwrapped from around his neck, and her fingers were gripping his shoulders for dear life as he whispered filthy things in her ears.

"I am going to spread you out on a bed, bury my head between you beautiful thighs and eat you out until you scream. Would you like that Sam?"

"Yes." Her voice was breathy and Brock felt his cock twitch.

"I want you to scream for me. Are you a screamer Sam?" He uttered her question back to her and Sam felt lightening throughout her body as her muscles clenched and she felt as if she were falling. She rested her forehead on Brock's shoulder as she regained her breath. "I am so happy that your very first orgasm was with me." Brock kissed her temple and he felt when she smiled into his shoulder.

 


	13. Underneath Your Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Brock take their relationship to the next level.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: "Underneath your clothes" by Shakira
> 
> NEW CHAPTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> If you see any errors, please to POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

Returning to the beach house in the late afternoon, everyone went their separate ways to get ready for dinner, with the plan to go to a nearby restaurant. Sam was currently in the bathroom, having just stepped out of the shower and feeling great at having gotten rid of the sand that clung to her skin. She had just pulled up her underwear when there was a knock on the door and it opened before she had a chance to call out.

"Hey Sam, do you-" Brock's words were cut off when he saw the state of dress that his young wife was in. His eyes travelled down her exposed chest, her nipples visibly hardening from the attention she was receiving, and he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Brock's eyes continued their exploration down her flat, tight tummy, to the black lace underwear hiding her virgin core from him and down her smooth beautiful legs.

Dilated green eyes shot back up to meet wide brown ones and Sam gasped at the predator which was before her. Before she could even blink Brock had closed the small distance between them, grasped her under her thighs and hoisted her up on top of the bathroom counter before bending his head to suck one of her hard nipples into his mouth. 

"Brock!" Sam shouted, throwing her head back in the sudden pleasure that assaulted her nerves, her fingers finding their way into Brock's hair, gripping tightly.

While his mouth was busy with one nipple, Brock's hand came up to tease the other between his thumb and fore finger, alternating between teasing the nipple and massaging Sam's breast, doing his best to drive her crazy.

This was the last thing Sam had expected to happen after that spontaneous moment in the water hours ago. She could still feel Brock's wicked fingers on her skin, touching her in such intimate ways and now he had her cornered in the bathroom, sucking on her breasts as if he was a starving man; as if he owned them. He kept switching from breast to breast with his sweet torture and Sam had to bite her fist to keep from screaming out in pleasure, feeling as heat pooled in her belly bottom.

Brock had pushed her legs up and a part on the bathroom counter, making it that if she had not put on any underwear, she would have been fully exposed to him. Sam could not help but think of how lewd they must look; Brock fully dressed, with her clad in only a tiny piece of lace and yet, it turned her on even more. The feeling of his clothes rubbing against her vulnerable skin.

Finding her voice and some sanity, Sam called out to him again, "Brock, come on I-" he sucked particularly hard and Sam's back arched. "I have to get dressed, the others will be wondering where we are."

Brock chose to ignore her, opting to leave a fiery trail of kisses down her heaving chest, to kiss around her navel before swishing his tongue around in the small opening.

"Brock." Sam tried to get his attention again, knowing it was a lost cause when Brock pushed her thighs further a part, kissing the junction between her thigh and her virgin space before planting his open lips over the lace covering the treasure he desired. Sam's hips bucked, and she screamed his name. His hot breath making her even more wet. He sucked on her lace covered mound, wetting the scant piece of cloth. Sam felt her toes curled and it was as if something broke in her, she felt pleasure rush through her veins as her heart tried its best to beat its way out of her chest.

Opening her eyes, she saw Brock's eyes almost black from lust staring back at her, right before he surged in for a brutal kiss, that she could only grip his shirt and hold on as he plundered her mouth like he plundered her sanity a mere few seconds ago.

Needing air Sam broke the kiss, resting her forehead on Brock's as they shared the same air. 

"That was-" Sam broke off, laughing a little.

"Yeah, it was." Brock agreed, straightening up he ran his hands down Sam's hair and kissed her forehead. "You really are beautiful."

Sam blushed at the compliment and looked down only for her eyes to widen. "Brock you're umm...you're still hard." Brock looked down at his crotch and laughed.

"That I am."

Licking her lips, Sam looked up at him, all wide-eyed innocence, "I want -"

There was a sudden knock on the bathroom door causing them both to jump. "Hey!" It was Riley. "I don't mean to interrupt anything, but Clint is getting grumpy from waiting and I do not want to have to shove a snickers bar down his throat."

Sam laughed, pushing Brock away from her. "We're coming." She called out. Once they heard the bedroom door close, Sam said, "I have to change my underwear now. Thank you."

"My pleasure." He grinned rakishly, leaving Sam to finish getting dressed.

* * *

The restaurant they chose to eat at had a darts and pool area and Sam was currently wreaking havoc on Brock’s sanity.

“I am seriously convinced that you are trying to get back at me Sam.” Brock said from behind Sam who was currently bent over the pool table, lining up her next shot. The short, form fitting cotton shorts she had on, showed the outline of her firm ass and Brock was blatantly checking her out.

She sunk the ball and lined up the next shot, shaking her ass a little. “Oh, why do you think that?” She sunk that ball as well before standing up and turning to look at Brock who was barely able to drag his gaze up to meet hers.

“Because you want revenge for the bathroom incident.”

Sam smiled sweetly before bending back over the table.

“Not to mention.” Brock walked up behind her, subtly pressing his hips to her ass so that she could feel his rock-hard erection. “You have been bending over so much, that I have had to flash my wedding ring at no less than five men and restrain myself from committing something that would highly be considered _public indecency._ ”

Sam smiled and pressed back into Brock as she straightened up and turned to face him, a sly smile on her face. “Good.”

Brock grinned and leaned in to kiss her. “You are the devil.”

"Hey.”

They looked to see Riley with a pool stick in his hands.

“Hate to be a cock block, but you get any closer and we are going to get thrown out of here and possibly arrested. So, how about a lil’ competition?”

Brock raised an eyebrow,” yeah? What are the stakes?”

Riley grinned, “bragging rights. Guys against girls.”

“I hope you are prepared to get your asses kicked.” Sam spoke up.

Clint walked up, followed by Dinah and Wanda, all with pool sticks of their own.

“Do you realise that I am a master archery student?” He asked Sam.

“Don’t mean a thing when you play against me.” She shut him down.

Everyone laughed.

“Then let’s see, shall we.”

Clint and Sam shared shark like smiles that had their friends stepping back.

The girls straight up owned their asses. Even after two more games, master archery student, Clinton Francis Barton was unable to regain honour for his teammates. Something the girls continuously reminded them about on the walk back to the beach house.

"How the hell did you allow them to beat us at pool?!" Riley asked, judging his friend as the girls walked in front still chatting about their victory. "You can hit a fly dead on with a rubber band and a piece of paper, but you suck at pool?"

"Hey," Sam spoke up. "Don't be so hard on him. I grew up poor; so, I learned pool to hustle people."

"Yeah and I have an older brother who taught me the game." Wanda chimed in.

"I am just a quick study." Dinah said. Both Sam and Wanda had told her the rules of the game as well as how to play and within five minutes she had whupped all their asses.

"Still does not excuse the fact that he sucks." Brock chimed in.

"Not for free he doesn't." Sam said without missing a beat, bringing everyone to a sudden stop. They all looked at each other before bursting out laughing.

"Y'all suck." Clint grumbled, walking a head and leaving his traitorous friends behind him.

"Not for free!" They all cried.

* * *

"I want marshmallows!" Dinah screamed, causing the others to jump, once they were back inside the beach house, running to the fridge to get the family size pack she was munching on earlier while at the beach.

"Ohhh!! Smores! Great idea!" Clint cried, grabbing some chocolate and graham crackers.

Brock looked at them as they walked out the back door, towards the fire pit outside on the patio. "Didn't you all just eat?" He raised an eyebrow at Sam who simply shrugged, walking by him with three big bags of chips in her arms. 

"Think of it as dessert." Riley sidled up beside him, handing him a beer.

Brock raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you a little too young to be drinking?"

Riley grinned as he opened his beer, "nah," he took a healthy swig. "I'm twenty-eight."

Brock's eyebrows reached his hairline, his eyes looking over the young-looking man standing beside him. 

"Gonna be twenty-nine next March."

"You don't look it."

"Good.” He clinked his bottle with Brock’s before going outside to join his friends.

* * *

Well into the wee hours of the morning, the group of friends sat on the patio in each other's company, sharing joke after joke and funny story after funny story until Dinah and Clint began yawning, that led to their significant others yawning as well.

"I think we should call it a night." Brock suggested as he herd the young adults into the house "You guys are exhausted."

“Good night.” They called out to each other, as they went to their self-assigned rooms.

Brock closed the door to his and Sam's bedroom

“Well, today was quite fun.” He said as he turned around to see Sam standing by the bed foot, looking at him. "You ok?"

"I'm not tired." She said, a shy look on her face.

"You're not?" Brock walked to her, his height making her tilt her head back, exposing her beautiful throat that he wanted to leave his marks on. "Then what do you want to do until you feel tired?" He took her hands and held them in his.

Sam shrugged, looking up at Brock from beneath her lashes. He inhaled deeply. "How about you go take a shower, then I will take one and then we can find something to do? Sounds good?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

* * *

Sam was trying desperately not to work herself into a panic as she sat on the bed, wrapped in nothing but a towel, waiting for Brock to finish his shower. She had already turned down the bed and sat at the end of the bed, facing the bathroom door.

The bathroom door opened, releasing a rush of steam as Brock stepped out. His hair was towel dried somewhat, artistically combed back with his fingers. Sam's eyes caught sight of the few drops of water still clinging to his toned chest, running down his sculpted abs that Sam wanted so badly to trace with her tongue to disappear into the towel he had on, was wrapped low around his hips.

He came to stand right in front of her.

“Hi.” He smiled down at her.

“Hi.” She smiled back shyly.

Brock held out a hand to her. “C’mere.”

Sam took his hand and stood when he gently pulled her to up. Brock wrapped his arms around her and held her close. They spent a few minutes just looking at each other, breathing each other’s air.

“You sure about this?” Brock asked, his voice soft as if he did not want to break the quiet moment they were having.

“Yeah. I want this. I want you.” Sam answered.

Brock slowly tilted his head down to capture her lips in a slow sweet kiss. Sam pressed her body to his even more, feeling him respond to the kiss. She felt as his hands moved between them as he pulled the towel from around his waist and let it fall to the floor.

Breaking the kiss to stand back, Sam looked at Brock as he stood fully naked before her for the first time. His body looked as if it was carved from marble by the gods. His muscular torso gave way to strong toned thighs, but it was his large, erect cock that had the most of her attention.

“Hey.”

Sam looked back up at Brock.

“May I?” He politely asked as his hands came up to where she had fastened her towel.

“Yes.”

With a touch of gentleness that made Sam ache, Brock loosened the towel, slowly unwrapping it to reveal her body. With a sharp inhale of breath, he dropped it to join his own on the floor by their feet.

“I have said it before and I will keep saying it. You are beautiful Sam.”

He slowly walked Sam backwards to the bed, laying her down gently before climbing on top her, covering her smaller body with his broader one. Brock kept his weight on his elbows, making sure not to crush her as they finally felt each other’s flesh.

They laid there, breathing slowly, quietly, the room illuminated by the warm glow of the bedside lamp.

Brock looked her over. “I’m going to treat you right Sam.”

“I know you are.” She smiled at him and ran her fingers through his hair. “You can put your weight on me Brock. I want to feel you.”

“Yeah,” Brock replied, “I want to feel you too.” He leaned down once more to capture her lips in a kiss. 

Sam parted her legs, allowing him to rest his body between them.

"We don't have to do anything you know?" He said when he broke the kiss, to trail his lips and tongue down her neck. Sam arching into the touch.

"I know that you will stop as soon as I say so, but I want to feel you Brock."

Brock looked over her, and once he was satisfied by whatever he found, he lowered himself to slowly and deeply kiss her. “I could kiss you forever Sam.”

His hand moved to her breast, caressing and pinching the nipple, making Sam moan and arch into the touch. He felt her body shake, thinking it was due to the pleasure he was giving her. It was only when he took himself in hand and lined up with Sam's innocent womanhood, about to enter her when Brock felt how tense and still Sam had gone. Looking down, his heart broke at the pained look on her face.

"Sam, Sam, open your eyes and look at me."

Sam did as told and Brock could see the fear of the unknown in her eyes.

"I am sorry." She blurted out.

"For what?"

"I thought I was ready and I got your hopes up, only to chicken out."

"Sam, sweetheart, no." He rolled off her and unto his side, taking her in his arms and cuddling her naked to his body. "If you are not ready, then you just aren't. There is nothing to be sorry about."

A tear escaped her eye. "But, I wanted to."

"We can't plan these things Sam. They just happen." Brock kissed the top of her head as he felt her arms snake around his waist. "When you are finally ready, you will know, and we will consummate our marriage."

"Ok." Sam sounded dejected. "what do we do now?"

"Well, there are other ways of pleasuring each other without having penetrative sex."

"Oh?" Sam tilted her head a little to look at him from below her eyes lashes and Brock had no idea if she knew what she was doing.

"Yeah, want me to show you?"

Sam nodded, and Brock gently eased her unto her back before settling himself between her legs again.

"You know the drill, tell me if you want to me stop, or if I do something you do not like."

"Ok."

Taking her wrists in his hands, he pressed her arms above her head.

"Keep them there." Brock whispered huskily as he began trailing kisses down her neck, down between the valley of her breast before kissing up one mound to take a hard nipple into his mouth.

"Brock." Sam sighed breathily, arching more into the sweet torturous pleasure.

His fingers tweaked the other nipple.

"I love your breasts Sam."

"And they love you."

Brock chuckled at her response as he kissed her ribs and flat stomach before edging further down. He slid further down the bed and her body until his shoulders were between her spread thighs.

"Brock?"

He looked up at her questioning eyes. "This ok?" He asked as he slid one of her thighs over his shoulder, spreading her even wider, giving him a fantastic view of her untouched sweet space.

She nodded, and Brock kissed where her thigh and hip joined. He then kissed her hairless mound before using his fingers to spread her wet lips and slipped his tongue inside of her.

"Brock!" Sam shouted, her back arching in pleasure and her hands shooting down to grab his hair.

Brock licked at her inner folds before plunging his tongue back inside of her, tasting her sweet juices. He swirled his tongue around her swollen clit before sucking it between his lips; enjoying the feel of Sam's quivering thighs. Brock moved his tongue back to her entrance, tongue fucking her while using his thumb to rub her clit, hearing her pants and moans, knowing that she was getting closer to falling over the edge.

He rubbed her harder and faster, and felt her tighten around his tongue, her sweet juices coating his tongue as her felt her release.

Sam was boneless as Brock crawled back up her body, kissing her deeply, making her taste herself on his tongue.

"That was amazing." Sam grinned at him as he laid beside her.

"Yes, it was."

Sam was looking at him a gleam in her eyes when she suddenly swung a leg over his waist and moved to straddle him. Brock's hands grabbing her hips immediately to steady her.

"My turn."

Brock looked amused, "I don't know whether to be scared or aroused."

Sam grinned wickedly, "the latter."

"What are you up to Sammy girl?"

"You'll see. Just remember virgin here and everything I am about to do I am doing for the first time. So, no making fun of me or pretending to like what I do." Sam looked at him seriously, "I do something you don't like tell me, if there is anything you think I can do better, tell me how to improve."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I mean it Brock."

"Fine." Brock sat up and kissed her deeply. "I will give you constructive criticism. Although I might love everything you do considering my long ass dry spell."

"Well then, let's end that dry spell shall we."

Sam ran her hands down Brock's toned body, dragging her nails along his defined abs, feeling them clench beneath her fingers and him shudder.

"You're a song written by the hands God Brock."

Brock laughed at hearing that. "You really do have a way with words Sam."

Sam kissed his collar bone, taking the skin between her teeth and sucked on it, not letting go until she made her mark on it. She sat up and admired her hand work.

"Underneath your clothes there's an endless story. She trailed kisses down to his pec where she took a nipple in her mouth, licking, sucking and nibbling on it.

"Sam." Brock tangled a hand in her hair as she pleasured him, his back arching and he moaned. Brock could not remember the last time he felt this good being with someone.

Sam moved to the other nipple, showing it the same attention. Sliding further down his body, Sam licked over his abs, and Brock gave a full body shudder under her. She eased up to look at him. His pupils were blown wide, his cheeks red and the look on his face was pure adoration for her.

"You are so beautiful Brock. Not just your body, but your heart and soul as well."

She gyrated against him, making him moan and grab her hips in a bruising grip.

"There's the man I chose."

"After telling me to fuck off." Brock breathed out, bucking up against Sam and making her moan in turn.

She slid further down his body so that she laid between his thighs, her eyes levelled with his cock.

"Hey, hey Sam, you don't have to do that darling."

Sam paid his words no mind, as she ran a finger up his thick, erect cock, watching with pure amazement as it jumped under her touch and Brock breathed in deeply.

"There's my territory, and all the things I deserve." Sam looked up at him, all doe eyed innocent. "Do I get to claim it?  For being such a good girl honey?"

"Fuck, Sam," Brock rose up on his elbows so that he could see her properly. "You can have anything of me that you want."

"Your cock, can I suck it?"

"Please." Brock said breathlessly.

Sam keeping her eyes linked with Brock's placed a gently kiss on his balls and he inhaled deeply holding his breath. Sam kissed her way up his erect shaft. She reached the head which was leaking precum and gently licked it off.

Brock's hips jumped. "Christ." 

She then did something quite unexpectedly. Sam inserted her tongue into his slit and Brock bucked, cursing.

"Holy fucking Christ Sam!"

Feeling quite powerful over the effect she was having on him, Sam without any warning swallowed in one go, relaxing her throat and taking him deep, her fingers wrapped around what she could not fit in her mouth. Brock in the meantime was losing what little sanity he had left as his  _virgin_  wife deep throated him.

Sam nodded her head as she sucked, licked and kissed her husband’s cock, happy that she could pleasure him the same way he did her.

"Sam," Brock could feel his balls begin to tighten and knew what was coming. "Sam." He tried to warn her again, but she simply looked up at him with her innocent brown eyes and hummed. That,  _that_  sent Brock over the edge and he shot his hot load down Sam's throat.

Brock collapsed on the bed, a boneless heap, his chest rising rapidly as he tried to regain his bearings when he felt Sam stroking his over sensitive penis.

"You have a very beautiful cock Brock."

He raised his head to see Sam's head resting on his hip as she stroked his penis and he reached down to run his fingers through her hair.

"Thank you."

"I want to name it."

"Ok - wait what?" 

Sam shifted her head so that her chin was pressing against his hip bone.

"I want to name it." She repeated.

"Ok," Brock said slowly, "why?"

"Because it is mine and I want to." Sam kissed the head and Brock felt his cock jump at the unexpected touch.

Brock was still staring down at his wife in bewilderment. "What do you wish to name it?"

The smile which crossed Sam's lips was downright devious. "Princess Penelope."

The room was silent for a minute until Brock busted out laughing. He laughed until tears began running down his face.

"You are hilarious Sam." He wiped his eyes and looked at Sam who was staring back at him with a blank look on her face. "Oh my- you  _cannot_  be serious about _that_ name?"

Sam tilted her head, "why? Don't you like it?"

"It's just so-"

"Just so what Brock?" Sam eased herself up on her elbow so that she could stroke his cock with her other hand, watching as whatever Brock was about to say get choked off.

Brock's head fell back to the pillow as Sam worked him to hardness again. 

"I think it suits your beautiful cock."

"Sam, I love what you are doing right now, and I love how much you love my cock,  _but_  you  _are not_  naming my cock 'Princess Penelope.'" Brock put his foot down while Sam was slowly jerking him off.

"Find how about Krull then?"

"That I can work with." Brock said breathy. He then reached down towards her and pulled her up his body by her arms so that she was straddling his abs. "However, if you get to name my cock." He reached his hand down between her legs to touch her clit with his middle finger causing Sam to moan and slowly rotate her hips so that his finger circled her, "then I get to name this sweet, tight pussy." Brock gently slipped his finger into her untouched space.

"What-" Sam moaned once the slight pinch of pain faded as she felt Brock gently massaged her inside walls. "What are you planning on naming it?"

" _Rough Rider_."

Sam snorted, "not as bad as names can go."

"Says the person who was going to name my fantastic cock  _Princess Penelope._ "

"Hey! That was a great name." Sam defended as she began grinding her dripping pussy on Brock's abs, smearing them with her juices.

"Mine's still better." Brock boasted.

"Then let's test it out." Sam slid back down to his waist, where she proceeded to press his cock flat so that the head smeared precum on his stomach, she then positioned herself over it.

Brock watched her with interest "what are you planning Sam?"

Sam merely looked up at him, smiled and then lowered her pussy along the length of his cock and began grinding back and forth against it, causing Brock and swear and buck his hips, almost causing her to fall off.

He grabbed her by her hips. "Are you really a virgin Sam? Because the things you are doing are messing with my mind."

"I did a lot of research if you should know."

"Oh?" Brock was interested. "And what did this research consist of."

"A lot of reading and watching videos."

"What kind of videos."

"I can show them to you."

Brock groaned and dropped his head back as Sam continued to grind against him, working them both to completion.

"You are going to be the death of me Sam Wilson-Rumlow."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y'all watched 'How to lose a guy in 10 days' you will know where their conversation in bed is from.


	14. Come A Little Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brock tells Sam about his past with Rebecca.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEW CHAPTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> If you see any errors, please to POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.
> 
> Give Ariana Grande's "God Is A Woman" a listen.

"This weekend was fun, but I am glad to be back home." Sam said from the passenger seat, smiling at Brock.

"It was fun.” Brock looked at her from the corner of his eye, "hanging with your friends, hanging out with you in our bedroom."

"Oh my God." Sam laughed, covering her face as she blushed. "You just had to drop that in."

"Well, it was fun, doing all those activities with you. I especially had fun when you were on top of me."

"I married a pervert."

"A good-looking pervert."

"A narcissistic pervert." Sam shot back.

Brock only laughed as he drove through the gate of their home, slowly moving up the drive way. "What the fuck?"

Sam sat up from hearing him curse, the air previously jovial turning serious from his tone of voice and facial expression. "What is it?"

"Not 'what'  _'who'_." Brock brought the SUV to a stop. "The hell is she doing here?" His grip tightened on the steering wheel as both he and Sam stared at person standing on their front porch.

"Who is she?" Sam asked, looking from Brock's white knuckled grip on the wheel, to the dark look his face to the woman standing outside their front door.

"My  _ex_ , Rebecca." He growled, as he got out, slamming the car door shut. Brock walked around to Sam and opened the door for her, helping her out like a gentleman should. He kept his eyes on his wife whose own eyes shone with concern.

"What do you need Brock?"

"To calm down."

Sam nodded and pulled him closer, looping her arms around his neck so that she could press her forehead against his.

"She's you ex, you have nothing to do with each other anymore, just remember that and remember that  _I_  am here with you, so let's go and face her together and send her on her way."

"You are a Godsend Sam." He breathed out and Sam chuckled.

"I know."

"And humble too."

Together, husband and wife walked hand in hand towards Brock's ex. 

"Brock." The woman, Rebecca said, her eyes bouncing between Brock and Sam, only to land on their entwined hands. "Good to see you again." The smile on her face was strained.

"Can't say I feel the same." Brock's voice was cold as was his voice and Sam squeezed his hand, feeling happy when he squeezed back. "Thought I told you we were done."

Rebecca had an old Hollywood quality kind of beauty to her, with her flawless pale skin, deep blue eyes, red painted lips and wavy jet-black hair. Sam noticed all this about her, including the huge diamond ring she was sporting on her left hand. 

"I know, and I swear I will be out of your life in a few minutes." Rebecca widened her blue eyes, trying to look innocent and Sam wanted to laugh in her face, but kept quiet, wanting to see how this played out instead.  "I wanted to tell you something. Something important before you found out from anyone else."

Brock rolled his eyes. "Quit the dramatics Rebecca, say what you came here to say."

Rebecca held up her left hand, the sun catching on the diamond of her ring. "I am getting married." 

Sam already knew about the ring and had guessed what she had wanted to tell Brock. What she could not figure out though, is  _why_  she was telling him. Sam jerked a little when Brock raised her hand, turning it to show off the ring he had bought her. Sam watched as Rebecca's eyes got impossibly wider.

"We," he gestured between himself and Sam, "are married. So, I could not care less as to why you're telling me about your engagement; but as you can see I have moved on. In fact, I moved on the moment I caught you fucking Mason."

Rebecca winced at his harsh tone and if Sam was anyone else, she would have felt a bit of pity for her, but Sam was Sam, and she was face to face with the woman who had broken her husband's heart. Broken the heart of a man who would have done anything for her. In other words, Sam herself wanted to rip into Rebecca.

"I just-" Rebecca opened and closed her mouth a few times, her eyes going back to Sam and Brock's clasped hands. A look of utter despair on her face and Sam put it together in an instant.

Sam could not help herself, “what exactly did you come here for?”

Rebecca’s eyes met hers and she could see the anger flare in the deep blue seas of them. “Excuse me?”

“What exactly did you come here for?” Sam repeated herself. “What were you expecting to come of your visit?”

Rebecca looked her up and down, and Sam was very much familiar with the look she was being given. "Didn't know you were into fucking  _under-age_  girls." As the words left her mouth, Sam felt a shift in the air and from the look of pure fear on Rebecca's face, Sam did not have to look to see how pissed off Brock was.

"Listen here," he growled, and Sam could  _feel_  the anger radiating from him. "This young lady standing beside me is my _wife_ and you will smart to show her the _respect_ she deserves. In addition, I told you that I wanted nothing to do with you anymore. So, I suggest you remove yourself from my property.”

"Brock, please," Rebecca took a step forward and Sam had to give it to her, the woman was brave to be facing Brock when he was that angry and a great actress to boot, what with the fake tears in her eyes and a tremble in her voice. "Please, just give me a chance to explain why I did what I did." Her outstretched hand reaching towards Brock was the last straw.

"He said leave." Sam had placed herself firmly between them, staring hard at Rebecca. "I have no problem dropping your ass right here, right now if you don’t listen." Sam promised. "So, I suggest you listen and leave. _Now._ "

Sam stared her down, feeling Brock's strong chest against her back and his hand holding onto her elbow. 

With an angry huff, Rebecca spun on her heels and got into her car. Sam and Brock watched as she tore out of the drive way, leaving skid marks. 

"Well, that was rather unpleasant." Sam turned to look at Brock when she got no response and the look on his face may her heart ache. "Hey," she reached up and touched his face, making him look at her. "Come here." She stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. 

Brock wrapped his arms around her slim waist, pulling her body to his for comfort. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of lemons. "Thank you." He whispered, squeezing his arms around her waist. 

"Any time." Sam squeezed back. "Let's go inside." She suggested, only releasing her hold on Brock when she felt him nod. 

* * *

That night the couple laid in bed together, facing each other in the dark of the room, the light of a full moon casting a silver glow in the room. 

Brock laid there, staring at Sam while she slept, his arm draped over her waist. "Hey, Sam, you awake?" He whispered, waiting a few beats for her to answer.

"Who could ever sleep with you staring so intensely at them?" Sam opened her eyes, the moonlight allowing her to see Brock's face. "Want to talk about what's got you attempting to burn a hole through my head?"

The sheets rustled as Brock shifted so that he was lying on his back, Sam watched him as he stared up at the dark ceiling.

"I was just about to enter the army when I met Rebecca and back then, I would not describe it as 'love at first sight' but it was something strong enough to make me stupid." 

"All men are stupid for a pretty face at some point in their life.” Sam raised herself up on her elbow to look down at him. “And you were young."

Brock released a bitter sounding laugh, "young and stupid. Not a good mix." 

"No, it is not. But, you wised up and you got out." Fuck, she made it sound as if he was in a gang.

"Took me two fucking years to find out what was going on." Brock dragged his hands down his face, releasing a harsh breath. "She promised that she would have been faithful while I was gone. That she was just as gone for me as much as I was gone for her. I was such a fucking idiot.”

He flung his arm over his eyes as if he wanted to hide away. Sam laid a comforting hand on his chest, Brock using his other hand, took hers and laced their fingers together. 

"I found out that while I had been away, she was screwing my best friend, Mason. I told them to look after each other. I guess they decided to do so in the biblical sense." He released a watery laugh and Sam hurt for him; hurt that he was young and probably in love and then had his heart broken in the cruellest of ways, not only by his girlfriend but his best friend as well.

Sam dragged herself closer to him, molding her body to his, offering him any comfort she could. "I am truly sorry for that Brock. You didn't deserve that." She felt Brock wrap his arm around her, holding her tight to him.

"Thanks for being here Sam."

"Wouldn't want to be anywhere else." She said and knew that she meant it. "We are in this together."

They laid there together in the silence, Sam’s head on Brock’s chest, listening to his heart beat and Brock with his arm wrapped around Sam’s waist, his thumb rubbing against the small bit of skin that was exposed thanks to her camisole riding up. Wanting to feel more of her warmth, Brock slid his hand further beneath her top, spreading his fingers and stroking her silk smooth skin.

“Brock.” Sam breathed his name, pressing closer to his body.

Brock removed his other arm from over his eyes and turned so that they were face to face. His hand slid down to her thigh, stroking it up and down, each time going higher and higher until he was rubbing her firm backside. Sam was squirming against Brock’s firm body. Her nipples were hard, and she was wet from just him running his strong gun callous hands on her skin.

“Yeah?” Brock was hard, and he pressed his hip against Sam’s tummy, letting her feel him.

Sam inhaled deeply at the hard length pressing against her. “Kiss me.” She commanded, Brock claiming her lips less that a second after those words escaped her lips.

He held her close to him, her ample bosom crushed against his chest and he claimed her with his lips, tongue and teeth. Sam dug her fingers into the skin on Brock’s back when he slid a toned thigh between her legs, growling in pleasure when she began grinding her aching virgin core against it.

Brock’s hand grabbed Sam’s ass, squeezing it, encouraging her to grind even more against him, while maneuvering his other hand between the mattress and her body. Expertly, he got his hand under her camisole to palm her breast.

Sam broke the kiss, throwing her head back with a moan and Brock latched on to her neck. Sucking, biting and licking at the skin, he made his mark on her. But not to be outdone, Sam brought her hands to his chest and pushed, signalling that she wanted him on his back and Brock complied, groaning in pleasure when Sam straddled his waist, grinding down on his hard, aching cock.

They were both breathing hard, staring at each other. Brock was straining against the cloth of his pants, wanting nothing more than to be buried in his wife’s virgin intimate space. Sam’s lips were swollen from kissing, she was moving her hips against Brock’s, seeking relief for the fire running through her veins. The straps of her camisole had fallen from her shoulders, her chest heaving with each breath, pulling Brock’s eyes to her breasts.

Licking his lips, he thought of getting his mouth on them, of sucking on her nipples, nibbling on them, feeling as she arched against him, wanting more. As if reading his thoughts, Sam brought her hands to the hem of her sleep top and pulled it up and over her head, dropping it off the side of the bed. She almost lost her balance when Brock suddenly sat up, wrapping his arm around her waist to prevent her from falling.

Brock latched onto her breast like a starving man, sucking hard, feeling Sam buck in his lap, while his other hand came up to tease the other. Pinching and rolling the nipple between his thumb and fore finger before palming her breast, squeezing the soft flesh in his hand, swallowing her moans of pleasure.

“Brock, Brock, Brock.” Sam chanted his name as if she was offering up a prayer to God. Suddenly, Brock felt a hard tug on his hair and he released his hold on her breast as Sam angled his head up so that she could claim his lips.

Caught up as he was in the kiss, and having his half naked wife in his arms, Brock almost came like a teenager when he felt Sam wrap her small hand around his hard, hot cock.

“Fuck, Sam!” He held on tighter to her as Sam stroked him up and down, playing with the head and spreading the pre-come that had escaped down his shaft.

"Yeah, we’re getting to that.” Sam whispered, as she snaked her tongue back into his mouth, this time swallowing his moans of pleasure.

As the pressure built and Brock felt his balls tighten with that familiar sensation, he broke the kiss.

“God is a woman and I have her right here in my arms.” He whispered in the dark to her, the light of the moon bearing witness to them.

Sam grinned, the praise boosting her ego. Brock could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge when suddenly the shrill rings of both their cell phones shattered their shared intimate moment.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Andrew Garfield is Peter Parker.


End file.
